


Postwar Pairings

by Bowtruckled



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death eaters at large, F/F, F/M, Forced Marriage, M/M, Post-War, Voldemort is dead, marriage law
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 89,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowtruckled/pseuds/Bowtruckled
Summary: "The Goblet of Unity? Seriously?" Ginny's voice dripped with sarcasm. "What a joke," she downed her drink in her annoyance. The newly enacted Marriage Law had them standing in the middle of the crowded gala; The Joining Ceremony was about to begin. "It was Kingsley's idea," Hermione sighed, trying to hide her fear. "This is a going to be a nightmare..."Postwar Dramione Marriage Law fic that's about to get interesting...Amazing Beta-reader credit goes to: AkaiaOwl. Thanks for helping make this fic MAKE SENSE :)
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 433
Kudos: 752





	1. An Old Marriage Law Comes to Light...

Ever since he’d taken the position years ago, Kingsley Shacklebolt had a bad habit of letting the Ministry plan all these war memorial ceremonies and fundraisers for charity foundations to help reconstruct. And while his efforts were nothing but commendable, his invitee list meant Hermione, Harry, and Ron were stuck playing host against their wills. 

At first they had been enjoyable; Harry, Ron, and Hermione attended them together and met with officials and investors and donors. They smiled and spoke and thanked. But soon enough Hermione began to realize it was more of a political move having the war heroes around than anything. The Ministry was forcing parties and events for the sake of showing their renewed strength and popularity, not so much in good governing tactics. It made Hermione sick. 

But when she voiced her concerns to Harry and Ron, they couldn’t have been more confused. Harry, always the hero, wasn’t about to let Kingsley down. He was by his side all the time as Head Auror, ready to back anything and everything the Ministry wanted to do. And then there was Ron, the so-called love of her life, who was too busy loving his training as Keeper for the Cannons to really listen to her, let alone what the Ministry was even holding galas about. He went for the social aspect and it suited him just fine. Their relationship ended soon after, go figure. 

At least he’d found something he loved doing, she reminded herself with a sigh. Once she had stopped traveling with Ron on all his quidditch matches, her career as an international journalist came to a halt. But then she’d taken her position as head of Special Forces under the department of Magical Law Enforcement and things actually felt right. She hadn’t had time for any galas with the workload the job entailed and that was just fine by her. 

Yet case after case of the violation of magical law in the form of abuse, neglect, and torture, Hermione was starting to see that the worse of the worst was still out there despite the end of Voldemort and the death eaters’ reign. More needed to be done, more laws or people to enforce them, more education and an end to discrimination. Not to mention the mess the office was in when she got there; organization had not been her predecessor’s strong suit. 

She found herself too busy and reluctant to take up her free time with publicity stunts for the Ministry anymore. Thus it was her lack of attendance that had started to be an issue. She had managed to dodge every gala or event or fundraiser for the last 6 months, claiming she had to go out of the country for a case or dig up research deep in the Ministry Library. 6 months of no events until Monday, where she was given a personal escort to the Minister’s office. The outlook was not good. 

She sighed heavily as she got up from her desk and followed the short, plump witch with crooked glasses reluctantly down the long marble hallway to the elevators. When they finally made it to the top floor and got to the Minister’s office, the Minister was not there. The annoyance was clear on Hermione’s face until she spied another person waiting patiently in front of the large wooden desk. 

“Harry!” She went over to give him a hug. He got up with a tired smile. 

“Hey Hermione, long time no see,” it had been almost a month since they’d seen each other. 

“Any idea what this is about?” she asked, scanning his eyes for any hint of information. He was dressed in his auror’s robes and his typical shaggy black hair fell across his forehead almost covering his scar. 

“No idea. Haven’t actually spoken to Kingsley in weeks since I took that case in Spain,” he looked as tired as he sounded, bags forming grey spots under his eyes. “Any luck with that tip I was given back in August?” 

“No unfortunately,” she frowned. “I’ve been working that case double time but we are no closer to seeing how the werewolves connect with all the disappearances, especially since no one’s spotted them anywhere in ages…”

“That’s annoying,” Harry was saying as the door opened once again. 

Hermione’s back was to the door, but when she turned to see who it was she was neither excited nor pleased. “Heya!” Ron said, giving Harry a clap on the back that practically knocked him over. 

“Hey buddy,” Harry said when he recovered and realized who it was. “Got away from practice for once, aye?” 

They exchanged handshakes before Ron turned to Hermione. She wasn’t surprised, with her and Harry being called here the Minister had to have something up his sleeve. But it had been some time since she and Ron had seen each other. They hadn’t had a chance to really talk since breaking up and the tension was obvious.

“Hermione, it’s nice to see you,” his voice turned suddenly timid. The rumors hanging around their break up were all over the Prophet; most talking about how much better Ron could do or was doing with a myriad of other people. Despite the fact Ron and Hermione both knew what was truth and what wasn’t, it still made him nervous nonetheless. 

“Hello Ron,” she gave a smile, but it felt too forced. She didn’t think she held ill feelings towards him, but she didn’t really have anything to say to him now. Feeling uncomfortable, Ron started talking quidditch to Harry, so she wasn’t going to be much use in the conversation anyway. She crossed her arms instead and walked over to look out the window. 

A couple more minutes passed before the Minister’s assistant came rushing in. “Oh, they’re waiting for you in the conference room dears! Our mistake, no rush, come along!” she sang in a voice oddly similar to the trolley witch back on the Hogwarts Express. Harry and Hermione exchanged curious looks; what did she mean, they? 

Ron simply smiled at the witch. “By all means, lead the way!”

They passed several doors to their right before approaching the last door in the hall on which the witch knocked before opening. It was a large room with a huge wooden table and twelve beautifully carved wooden chairs seated neatly around. When the Golden Trio entered, they were not expecting most of the chairs to already be occupied. 

The Minister sat at the head of the table, wearing his typical purple and gold robes. A stack of papers was haphazardly laid out in front of him. His hands were folded neatly in front of him when the three walked in, but he looked weary. 

To his left sat two ministry officials; Hermione recognized them from the Department of Magical Law. Next to them sat two more officials, one from the census bureau and another from the family affairs office. 

On the other side of the table, Hermione recognized three of their former classmates: Ernie Macmillan, Theodore Nott, and Padma Patil. Ernie and Padma were talking quietly while Theo looked somewhat bored. On the end nearest them was Luna, looking as misty eyed as ever but she smiled when she saw Hermione enter. The Minister gestured for them to sit down in the three remaining seats. 

“This is a curious group,” Luna whispered when Hermione took the vacant one next to her. 

“I’d say. I wonder why we’re all here…” 

Kinglsey cleared his throat, “Ah, now that we are all present… I must say thanks for joining me this morning. I know how difficult it is for you to all take time away from your busy schedules, but I wouldn’t do it unless it was absolutely necessary.” 

A few of the group members looked around, some curious, some nervous. Kingsley sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Alright, let’s get started,” Kingsley said and he turned to the people sitting on his left.

“For those of you who have not been acquainted, this is Regina Fangg and Winston Crof, they work in the department of Magical Law. They specialize in magical contracts and family law,” they bowed their heads with matching smiles. 

Hermione recognized Winston, she had consulted with him over a case dealing with marriage contracts several months ago. The Minister went on.

“And this is Tanya Woll, she works for our census team, Chief Data Analyst of births, deaths, and population densities. Sees trends and the like,” Kingsley pointed to the woman seated beside Winston. 

Her hair was cropped short by her ears but its bright pink appearance reminded Hermione of Tonks. She smiled a toothy grin and gave a wave. For the Minister being so distraught, it was weird that the ministry officials were so happy; it made Hermione nervous. 

“And last we have Benjamin Tury, Bloodline Analyst for Family Affairs,” he stated, knowing the title would make half the room cringe. “He keeps track of magical blood and the lineages that are throughout the population,” the small man nodded around at them all. He was bald and his big, black mustache curled on the ends. He wore a green bow tie. 

“The rest of you, I know you are all well acquainted but it wouldn’t hurt to just introduce you to everyone,” Kingsley said turning to the other side of the table. 

“Ms. Patil is a leading official on policy drafting here at the Ministry. Mr. Macmillan is part of the Department of Mysteries, dealing with Magical Artifact Research. And Mr. Nott here works for St. Mungos, Head of the Potions Department,” Kingsley said going down the line. 

“Next we have Ms. Lovegood, a Charms Expert for the Department of Mysteries, and well, last we have the Golden Trio but we sort of all know what you three do,” he said, giving them a weak smile. 

A silence filled the room. “Right, so all of you are here because the Wizengamot has decided a new policy must be enacted. Please know I was not on their side on this and I did fight in all your defense,” Kingsley said, addressing the young witches and wizards he had fought alongside of. He sighed again.

“The Wizengamot asked me to meet with you all because you can contribute in some way to… the Marriage Act,” Kingsley managed. He looked as distraught as the entire room suddenly was. 

The tension in the room broke like shattered glass. Ron’s face was growing red. “What! This has to be a joke!” 

“A law to force us to marry. I know they exist, but this is crazy!” Padma protested before Hermione was up and out of her seat. 

“After all we’ve done for the wizarding community?!” Hermione yelled, the anger contorting her features, “It’s unethical Minister, it’s completely unethical not to mention the consequences-” 

“Calm down please!” the Minister managed, letting authority find its way back into his voice. “Please, just relax people. I know it is not the most ideal situation but they are insistent,” he eyed the ministry officials across the table with irritation, “I have tried to persuade the Wizengamot differently but… they believe with all the violence still occurring and the drop in the number of magical bloodlines that it is the only way… 

“This is absurd!” Ernie Macmillan offered, putting a fist on the table. 

“Absurd is right,” Nott stated simply, finally bothering to look at the group. 

“Look, these ministry workers have brought the statistics to my attention and I can’t say they aren’t grim. The war has devastated the magic here and this solution seems the most realistic,” Kingsley rubbed his forehead. 

Hermione eyed the Minister, wondering how he could possibly have agreed to this. “You cannot force us to help you, Minister-” 

“You don’t have a choice,” a calm, cold voice filtered its way across the table from the ministry worker to Luna’s left. It was Benjamin Tury, the Bloodline Analyst, his mustache bristling as his lips moved. “It’s an ancient magical law from old times, but it can be enacted whenever there is a true need. The statistics do not lie. There is a true need and we intend to enact the Marriage Law.” 

When several jaws around the table dropped, not including Nott’s, Regina Fangg spoke up. “It is not a surprise that things like this exist for dire cases and we are willing to make the sacrifice for the good of our people. You are all expected to participate in the implementation of this law.. Especially you three,” she stated looking at Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

“Why is it always us?” Ron rubbed his forehead, the irritation in his voice thick.

“Well obviously with you three on board people will be unwilling to distrust it,” Tonya Woll sang matter-of-factly. Hermione was no longer reminded of Tonks; in that moment Tonya sounded just like Umbridge. She shuttered.

“But we so obviously distrust this,” Hermione stated, looking to Kingsley for any sign of backing them up. He only gave an apologetic look. 

“And if we don’t cooperate?” it was Nott’s turn to fight back. His voice was low but stern. 

The Minister looked solemn. “The law states you will be dismissed from the wizarding community,” gasps and wide eyed stares of disbelief filled the room, “Please remember, this is not my choice. I fought to make this better but all I could do was negotiate fairness, magical laws of this nature are difficult to rewrite, if at all…” 

At this Hermione crossed her arms, her anger not subsiding. The unfairness in the situation seemed to gather in the young witches and wizards and the air felt thick with disagreement. Before anyone could say anything, it was Harry’s brave and steady voice that filled the room. 

“Alright then Minister, do I dare ask what fairness you ended up getting on our behalf?” he asked. 

The Minister nodded. “Yes, of course. Well, random pairing would be both unwise and dangerous. No doubt it caused problems in the past when this law was frequently used in times of hardship in the magical community. So that was my first objection when they suggested the law. They also wanted to assign couples themselves,” he gave the group the look of incredulity that he had given the Wizengamot. 

“So I came up with a better alternative. The only real just way was something that would link up the best possible personalities and individuals, the ones most likely to succeed, to thrive, to be compatible. We have spells and enchantments we can use to aid this, ones the people in this room specialize in so as to create the perfect object.” 

“An object?” Hermione asked, looking suspicious. Her voice carried a snarky bite to it that made even Harry give her some space. 

As Kingsley looked around, he could tell the group was still not sold. “Think of it like the Goblet of Fire but for marriage,” Kingsley said. “It’s really the only way to make this law work in your favor.” 

“You’ve got to be bloody joking,” Ron stated what the entire group was thinking.   
This was going to be a long meeting…

It was nearly 9 o’clock at night when the details were finally worked out, much to the irritation of the seven young witches and wizards who would no doubt be amongst the group required to marry under its pretenses. They were also the group required to make the Goblet of Unity, as the Wizengamot so aptly named the object, to use in the Joining Ceremony in 30 days’ time. 

The Goblet of Unity was going to be fashioned to choose pairs of witches and wizards by sheer compatibility, all in fairness. While it intended to mix bloodlines, it would incorporate several aspects of the Amortentia potion as well as charms for compatibility and personality matching. 

Theo, Luna, Hermione, Harry, and Ron would see to it that the spells worked in cooperation to make matches. The goblet itself, becoming a magical artifact, would be put under rigorous tests and protections to ensure no tampering could take place, done by Ernie. 

Padma was charged with adding amendments to the original Marriage Law. This was so that they could ensure both this little bit of fairness was added in with the goblet without destroying the sanctity of the law, which the ministry officials made clear would result in dire consequences if they messed up. 

Feeling completely drained and still unnerved, the meeting adjourned; Hermione headed home, her mind swimming. She walked to the elevator with Luna and Padma. They were talking quietly about whether or not people would protest this. She sighed as the doors closed, unsure about it all and not wanting to talk. She needed time to think.

Harry, Ron, Ernie, and Nott walked downstairs to the Floo. “This is crazy,” Ron said over his shoulder, still not believing what was going on. 

“What am I going to tell Ginny?” Harry stated bluntly, the worry taking over his voice. 

“Shit mate,” Ron said, “She’s going to be devastated if you two aren’t paired!” 

“Devastated is an understatement.”

“But how can they ignore stuff like that? You can’t be the only couple already engaged,” Ernie mentioned as they kept walking.

“Oh I’m sure we aren’t,” Harry said, “But they don’t care. It’s a solution for them.”

“A solution? I still don’t get to what exactly,” Ernie said, “Having fewer magical people in the world can’t be the most urgent problem our society faces.”

“It’s a solution to putting the bad kids in their place,” it was Nott who spoke. 

“What?” Ernie said in disbelief. They’d reached the lobby. 

Ron looked at the Slytherin suspiciously. “You mean to ensure you guys don’t go plotting a repeat?” 

‘Now Ron, come on, don’t just-“ Harry started, but Nott had already turned around to face Ron. 

Nott narrowed his eyes making the blue in them look like steel. “Look Weasley, I’m not proud of my past, but I’ve done much to repay the debt. And still am,” he sighed. “But I cannot say the same of some of my old friends or, more often than not, their families…” 

Harry looked from Ron to Nott and back again. They’d reached the fireplaces but it didn’t appear like anyone was about to disappear just yet. Ron stood with his chest out as he searched for a rebuttal. 

Harry slid his wand into his hand out of habit; no need for anything to get out of hand, even if he did believe Theo when he said he was trying to make amends. He knew Theo Nott deciding to go into medicine and taking the position at St. Mungos was a big deal. He had already surpassed research goals and was beginning a new clinical trial for severe Cruciatus-effected patients. He was definitely trying. 

Nott stepped up to the nearest fireplace. “But it’s not like you can just forget Potter and Granger are working their asses off because people are still being stupid and ignorant,” the flames turned green and Nott paused before stepping into them. “And marrying Slytherins off to muggleborns? It’s not a fix.” 

He vanished leaving Harry, Ron, and Ernie to stand in the empty lobby with his chilling words.


	2. Ceremony Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get this stupid Goblet made and maybe try to make it fair. Who knows what these old classmates can come up with?

~23 Days Until the Ceremony~

Hermione sat in her flat by the fire, attempting to look over research done on the whereabouts of the werewolves from the tip off Harry had received weeks ago. She had sent two of her caseworkers to dig up any information they could, yet she was finding it too hard to concentrate. She was exhausted after having to extend her normal work day to accommodate working on the Goblet of Unity and it was taking up so much of her time that it was all she could think about. 

It was a crazy plan; she understood the Minister’s reluctance too, he was a smart man. He knew this wouldn’t be the solution to all the problems the Ministry was still facing with blood purity, ignorance, and violence. Not to mention it was by far asking too much of these young, war stricken kids… herself and her friends included. Well, they weren’t really kids anymore, were they? She put her head in her hands, sighing.

Who will I be paired with?, she wondered for the hundredth time. A few months ago, she might have guessed Ron, what with the way they had been so inseparable after the war. But time unraveled their differences and she couldn’t really say she wasn’t happier now on her own… 

Ron would have made sense in the pureblood aspect of it too, she remembered, as she considered how the goblet was supposed to take blood status into account too. Half the purpose of this law was to make sure magical lineage was maintained somehow. Yet, even marrying off what few muggleborns were left didn’t guarantee they’d produce magical children… or even have children for that matter, she considered for the first time.

And it wasn’t unknown that purebloods could have squibs too. She sighed again. How was that part of the law written again? Padma was struggling with amending the part about having children and had asked Hermione for advice. They’d spent hours poring over the ancient texts, trying to figure something out. So far, they’d come up short. A 5 year timeline always sounds great, until you think about it…

As Hermione sat, lost in thought, she completely ignored the fire which started to crackle and burst in front of her. In seconds, the flames turned green and out stepped a very unhappy redhead who looked on the verge of tears. 

“Oh Ginny!” Hermione was shaken out of her own mind.

“It’s awful Hermione, simply awful!” Ginny sobbed, collapsing into Hermione’s open arms. 

“I would have figured you’d be angry more than upset.”

Hermione caught her friend’s words through the raking tears, “I-I was, believe me. Harry saw the brunt of it but, but then I got all emotional because… what-what if Harry and I aren’t chosen for each other? I know its stupid but, I can’t help it!” 

Hermione had forgotten, weighed down with work, the goblet, and her own thoughts of the law; how many other couples were already happy and would have this law tear them apart? So many people would be hurt… 

“Not to mention you!” Ginny started, looking up at Hermione with tear stained cheeks. 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t think you can fool me Hermione, you’re acting all brave but this stupid law is going to mix bloodlines. You’ve got to be scared!” 

“Nervous, yes,” Hermione considered but her fear and anger had finally dissipated. She already tried to fight this law and had lost on all fronts. She hadn’t let Kingsley or the Wizengamot hear the end of it, owls and personal meetings and arguments. But they’d already enacted it with an old magical spell; there was no undoing this. 

“Gin, I have to agree to this, I tried to argue, to fight it and change it and do everything I could but-“ 

Ginny’s strangled voice cut her off. “But Hermione… you’re-you’re going to end up a death eater’s wife!” 

The words felt harsh when they were said out loud. Hermione’s eyes grew much too wide; sure she had considered it for all of a brief moment, but there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d be compatible with someone like that. Never. 

But something in hearing it out loud had a different feeling all together. The fear crept in much too fast. Knowing what her best friend faced, what they all faced; she wrapped her arms around Ginny tighter. 

~2 Weeks Until the Ceremony~

It was late Friday night when the team finally finished their work for the day and headed to the Leaky Cauldron. Making the Goblet of Unity was taking a lot more effort than expected and the exhaustion was starting to show. Even Kingsley felt bad for them and wrote up a proposal to give them all bonuses. The Wizengamot seemed annoyed by it but he wouldn’t let them get away without signing it. 

“This is getting ridiculous,” Theo said as he narrowed in on three open bar stools and began waving for the bartender to come over. He eyed him uneasily before taking his order, but upon seeing Luna and Harry behind Theo, he smiled. 

“Yeah, I am so behind on all my other work,” said Padma, taking a seat. She put a hand to her forehead and sighed. Ron, Harry, and Ernie remained standing and took the glasses Theo offered them eagerly. 

“You could say that again,” Hermione huffed as she stood beside her old classmates and grabbed a glass too. “I had at least six owls on my desk and two case workers waiting for me when I snuck to my office during lunch.” 

“Yeah, as much as this little break has been nice,” Harry mentioned, “I’m leaving my team in Spain with two new recruits. Not the smartest move on my part…” he took a sip of the glass. 

Ron looked like he was trying to find some encouraging words. “2 weeks guys. That’s all we got left. At least there’s that.” 

“Does wedding season get your knickers all flustered Weasley?” Theo laughed rather sarcastically after he downed his glass. He raised a hand for another round and the bartender came right over. Harry chuckled as he reached into his pocket and threw a few gold galleons to him.

Ron gave Harry a nudge with his elbow. “Well of course not, but it doesn’t do well to sit here, moping like moaning Myrtle. Isn’t the most stressful part now figuring out who we’re going to be paired with?” he looked around the group to see if they agreed.

Padma and Luna shrugged. “You’re probably right,” Padma agreed. “Especially since we’ve been placing all these compatibility charms that were originally made to be accurate. Makes you wonder…” 

“Am I the only one thinking our old Hogwarts houses are already going to be a dead giveaway though?” Ernie said. “We’ve been sorted by our traits already.”

“One would think,” Theo pondered out loud. “Although, I doubt many Slytherins are ripe to be paired with a snuggly little hufflepuff.” Luna laughed at this but everyone stared at her. Theo just shrugged.

“But every person doesn’t fit the cookie cutter mold for each house,” it was Harry who reminded them of this. “I could have been in more than one house, the Sorting Hat told me so himself.” 

“Mate, that’s because you were half Voldy at that point,” Ron laughed. His joke made Theo and Ernie chuckle but Harry didn’t seem to find it very funny.

“Harry’s right though, the Sorting Hat told me he’d considered placing Parvati in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. And that I would have made an interesting addition to Slytherin. I think it’s all relative. We’ve all changed a lot since sorting,” Padma told them. 

“You could say that again,” Theo said under his breath. Ron snorted. 

“Fancy yourself more like a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw Nott?” Ron asked jokingly. “Bronze seems a grand color for you.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Theo stated, “it’s my pureblood status that’s on everyone’s mind. Mine and all the other Slytherins. Not which house I’d fit in now. Not my real attributes which are vastly different from those of my dumb, adolescent self.” 

“Well Theo, it’s not like compatibility charms account for blood status. These spells and enchantments we are doing won’t ensure bloodlines mix. The bloodlines could remain the same for all we know,” Hermione stated, irritation in her voice. “And to be frank, I don’t think the Wizengamot even realizes.” 

She wanted so much to believe her own words; ever since Ginny visited her it was all she could think about, the possibility of being paired with a Slytherin. She had considered all the boys in their year who were pureblood, desperate that her easy friendship with Neville could work itself into a marriage or that perhaps her and Ron could sort some of their problems out in the long run. 

She would even take Dean Thomas or maybe Lee Jordan too, they were half-bloods. Anyone but Slytherins seemed viable options. Maybe Theo wouldn’t be so bad if she had to choose anyone from that house. He had said he’d changed. How many other Slytherins were now tolerable to be around, she wondered seriously… 

“Hermione, hello?” Harry was saying to her and she shook out of her reverie. She hadn’t realized that, in her tiredness, she’d completely missed hearing what Luna had said in response to her comment. 

“Sorry,” she managed. “What were you saying?” she drank the rest of her glass and Padma grabbed another from off the bar to hand to her. When Hermione looked hesitant, Padma just nodded and pushed the glass toward her. 

“I agree with you. I don’t think they’ve realized that in using pairing spells and Amortentia and all the other additions they aren’t going to necessarily get muggleborns paired with purebloods and half-bloods,” Luna explained. “It’s kind of funny, like our little secret.”

“Yeah, a secret fuck you to the Wizengamot,” Theo laughed. “I’m okay with that.”  
“It’s cute how they think this is helping the wizarding community grow,” laughed Ron, now onto his third glass. His cheeks were beginning to get rosy. 

“I guess by insisting on marriage they think we’ll have kids right away too,” Ernie suggested. 

“Thank Merlin that’s not written into the law,” Theo said with a little too much relief in his voice. “A ring on my finger is plenty.” 

“Well Nott, it’s not immediate but I’m desperately trying to find a way around the whole having kids aspect of the law. These ancient law writers were just awful. Not an ounce of humanity in them really,” Padma frowned. Theo paled and Padma gave him a weary look. 

“About the rings,” Ernie brought up then, rather reluctantly. “The ministry officials are giving me a special request…”

“And what’s that? The rings bound us together, never letting couples separate more than a couple feet?” Theo said, the sarcasm oozing from his lips.

“Not quite,” Ernie said, “but the rings we all are getting are going to be enchanted. The Wizengamot wants to ensure these pairings last and that no one gets ideas afterward. So, they told me they have to bind the witch and wizard together somehow…”

Luna, Padma, and Hermione stood, mouths open. “What in Merlin’s sagging bollocks does that mean,” Theo stated for them all.

“They’re having my department work on them, but we’re still figuring it out. It’s got something to do with linking magic and maybe then, as you get closer and your bond becomes stronger, the ring becomes stronger,” Ernie explained. “He only told me yesterday, so I’m not really sure…” He looked at the bottom of his glass, apologetic for keeping the information from them. 

“Screw it, this whole thing is bonkers,” Padma mumbled. 

The circle grew quiet as the reality sunk in deeper. Not only would they be paired up but then bonded with special rings? What would the rings even mean for the pairs? The future was looking ever more grim for them all. 

Harry put an arm around Hermione when he saw her looking down at her glass, a line of fear growing across her forehead. She hadn’t told him about what Ginny had said to her, but she wondered if Ginny had already talked with Harry about it anyway. 

When Hermione looked at everyone else, she saw much of the same agitation. Padma had her head in her hands and Theo was twirling a ring on his finger, looking off in the distance trying to hide the worry in his blue eyes. Ron sighed before draining his glass and Ernie was shifting back and forth on his feet nervously, paying too much attention to the bartender as he made a drink. 

Luna looked around the circle, her voice soft and comforting when she spoke, “well at least one thing came out of this whole ordeal; they’ve managed to make friends out of us all.” 

“I guess that’s something,” Ernie searched for confirmation in the faces around him.

“Yes,” Harry said, trying to smile. “It’s true, even for you Nott.” Theo looked up at this, a little embarrassed and uncertain of the truth behind it. 

“Perhaps their bigger plan was something along these lines,” Hermione realized then. “Or more likely, this is a complete accident.” 

“Cheers to accidents,” Theo stated loudly, holding his glass out. They all clinked, weak laughter coming to the circle as a whole. It was all they had on this dreary night, 2 weeks before all their lives would change. They were holding onto all they could.


	3. Old Classmates and Ceremony Dresses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione runs late to the Ministry and bumps into an old friend... then it's off with Ginny to find a dress suitable for a forced marriage ceremony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, my lovely beta AkaiaOwl has informed me that my format wasn't correct, so alas: I have made it easier for you :) enjoy!

~10 Days Until the Ceremony~

Hermione rushed through the lobby of the Ministry, coffee in hand and her bag shouldered across her arm, trying to read the document that had just been owled to her on her way downtown. The little white owl that found her on her morning commute reminded her an awful lot of Hedwig as it struggled to carry the folder; she gave it a bit of her muffin for its efforts and felt a little sad when it flew from her shoulder minutes later. 

The folder in question, she realized upon opening it as she walked across the lobby, was a possible lead on the werewolf case. She couldn’t wait until she got to her desk. She was busy skimming the contents when she found herself placing a hand into the nearest closing elevator door to stop it so she could get on. 

Hermione’s hair was back in a lovely bun, but, in her rush, a few tendrils of hair came loose. And she was still juggling the folder with all its papers, trying not to spill coffee everywhere. When the doors had closed with her inside, someone behind her gave a chuckle at the sight in front of them. When she turned, shock found its way to her face as she blinked at none other than Draco Malfoy. 

He was taller than she remembered, but his sharp features looked as dignified as they always had. His hair was longer than it had been in school and it wasn’t slicked back but rather combed neatly in a wave of white blonde. 

He wore an expensive black sports jacket-robe hybrid, some new age fashion that Hermione had to compliment. It looked good on him and paid tribute to muggle style. His golden cuff links practically glittered in the light. His hands were in his pockets but he greeted her all the same. 

“Why am I not surprised that Hermione Granger, now all grown up and noble, is still bustling about with her nose in a book?” he said, his voice steady and casual. The lightness in his grey eyes mesmerized her for a minute before she came to her senses. 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a folder,” she said holding it up. “And I see you’re much the same Malfoy, an expensive suit and the same old smirk?” she noted confidently. 

He smirked at her in spite of it. “Well, well, Granger’s grown a tongue. I better watch out,” he said with an air of snark. “You work here now? I was wondering why Magical Interrelations seemed to be a dull read as of late.” 

She was confused at his change of subject and the compliment he paid her about the magazine she used to write for. It was one of the most prestigious ones out there but she hadn’t expected Malfoy to read her articles. They were usually argumentative and lengthy. 

“Travel lost its fun when I was only seeing quidditch pitches,” she explained, noticing his eyebrow raising at this. “I am now the Head of Special Forces for the Department of Law Enforcement, if you want to know.”

“I expected nothing less, you have always been… determined,” he said and she was taken aback. Not a single remark about Ron, as the quidditch pitch comment surely tipped him off. Was this the same Draco Malfoy she had known years ago? 

At her look of confusion he chuckled again. “Sorry, something wrong? Time makes fools of us both Granger, but change is never a bad thing. Relax.” 

“Sure…” she said hesitantly. “But how do I know this isn’t all a front? Seems very Malfoy of you,” she blurted before she could stop herself. Not her most courteous remark, that was for sure. She almost felt bad after she said it.

A bell dinged and the elevator came to a halt. Draco Malfoy took a step forward. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me,” Draco smirked simply. “I happen to have a meeting with the Minister, not really sure what it’s about. Maybe Malfoy Enterprise will get to sponsor your next big party,” he laughed almost viciously as he walked down the hall. 

She heard his voice once more as the doors were getting ready to close and he called over his shoulder, “And Granger try to get some sleep, will you? There’s purple all under your eyes.” 

And with that the doors were shut. Hermione stood, her bag slowly slipping down her arm in the silence of the elevator. She stared at the silver doors, her mind swimming with thoughts of Draco Malfoy and Marriage Laws...

~7 Days Until the Ceremony~

Ginny stood looking in a mirror at the beautiful black dress she had picked out. She turned left, tilting her head in the light and taking in all the angles as the fabric flowed around her. 

Hermione had taken the rest of the day off, it being Friday and all, so she could go with Ginny to find something nice to wear to the ceremony. Plus, it gave her time away from dealing with the remaining preparations for the Goblet. It was practically done, they just had a few minor tweaks still in the works. 

Padma was able to write in a clause about having children: that if a couple wasn’t willing they could adopt magical children who had been displaced during war. It was brilliant but also problematic as they had no way to track these kids yet. It was another complication they'd have to figure out at some point. At least they had time. Stupid arcaic law.

Ernie hadn’t told them anything more about the rings. No doubt he didn’t want them all freaking out about whatever bind the rings would put them under. It was something Hermione was researching on the side, just to look into what types of magical binds there were and what could actually be done through the rings. She had to be prepared, like always. 

“I really don’t know why you wanted to take time to do this,” Hermione said again, watching Ginny’s reflection. She looked beautiful but the frown on her face didn’t budge. “This isn’t going to make you feel better Gin.” 

“I’m aware… But at least it’s giving me something to occupy my mind on.” Ginny turned again and then stepped back towards Hermione, waiting for her opinion. 

“It’s lovely, but black? Really?” she asked, looking at the vibrant red dress that hung as a second option on the dressing room hook. 

“Yes, black. It could be my funeral, might as well dress appropriately,” Ginny didn’t flinch or laugh.

Hermione frowned. “Ginny, come on, don’t say that… it’s… it’s not going to be like that.” 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You don’t know that. What if I’m paired with Blaise Zabini or Marcus Flint or some shithead like that, huh?” 

“Ginny,” Hermione said, noting the seriousness in her friend’s voice, “I doubt you guys have much in common. Don’t forget, I’m helping make this goblet,” Hermione walked over and handed Ginny the red dress to try on instead. 

“The parts of Amortentia we are using are the attraction charms, the ones that tell you real things you find of value and significance in your perfect person.”

Ginny looked unamused as she grabbed the dress and went back behind the curtain.

Hermione sighed. “I know for a fact what Harry smelled 6th year in Potions class. Your perfume was top on his list and you still wear that same one to this day.” 

Ginny had a blush on her cheek when she came out in the red dress. A small smile pushing itself through the worry on her features. “Seriously? You think we’re a match, like really?” When she looked in the mirror, the red dress looked much better on her than the black. Hermione gave her a welcome nod. 

“Sure,” Hermione reassured her. “I know you both so well. If there was anyone I was sure about being paired, it’s you two. Honest. And Harry will love that dress.” 

Ginny stepped away from the mirror and went to hug Hermione. “Thanks Hermione, really.” They stood together for some time before Ginny let go. She went to take the dress off and when she reemerged she walked back over to Hermione and put her hands on Hermione’s shoulders. 

“Honestly though, I’ve been racking my brain for anyone that would make sense being paired to you and I’ve come up blank. Like there’s no one good enough, I’m convinced!” Ginny blinked. “Like maybe Neville? Or even Seamus. I wonder if Oliver Wood has gotten married yet?” 

Hermione gave a weak laugh thinking of her crush on Oliver in second year. “I can’t say I haven’t been thinking about it either… especially considering all the purebloods that are out there. Maybe your brother and I will be back together in the near future,” she reasoned, gauging Ginny’s reaction to that. 

“As much as I loved the idea of you as my sister-in-law, I saw how the few differences you guys did have made things really complicated. Maybe George will be interested, he hasn’t married yet.”

Hermione laughed. Ron wouldn’t be the worst option, she could do it. Probably. And George didn’t seem plausible, but it would be a fun marriage to say the least. 

Ginny had walked over to the nearest clothing rack and began pursuing dresses for Hermione. When she pulled out a dark green one that went down to the floor, she laughed. It was ugly. “But my brothers would be better than a Slytherin, that’s for sure.” 

At this Hermione was reminded of her elevator ride this morning and practically jumped. “Merlin, I forgot to tell you! Speaking of Slytherins, guess who I saw at the Ministry earlier this week?” 

“Pansy, our dearest old friend?” Ginny laughed as she thrust the green dress back on the rack. 

“Draco Malfoy,” Hermione stated clearly and waited for Ginny’s reaction. Ginny’s eyebrows almost disappeared into her hair. 

“You’re kidding!” Ginny exclaimed. “I thought he fell off the face of the Earth after his trial! Where’s he been, living as a recluse in the manor all this time?” she went back to look at the rack, pulling out a dark blue dress and holding it up towards Hermione with consideration. 

“Well you’re not going to believe this, he was nice… well as nice as he could be, being him and all. I guess civil is a better word,” she contemplated. All the same he was strange, different, and she needed to share it. “He still looks much the same, more mature but same sneer and blonde hair.”

Maturity had actually softened his features just enough to be handsome, if she hadn’t known how vile he could be… What if they were paired?, she thought suddenly. No, definitely not, she shook her head. 

Malfoy may have claimed he’d changed, but there was no way they’d be a match, not with their past. Right? She shook her head again, like it would clear the thoughts away. Had she just said he was handsome?

Ginny had walked back over to Hermione, draping three dresses across her lap. “That’s crazy, I can’t believe he even ventured to talk to you! Maybe it was someone else using polyjuice,” she laughed. “What was he doing at the Ministry anyway, another trial?” 

“No, he was invited to meet with the Minister,” Hermione said, still confused over that. She went behind the curtain to put on the first dress. It was pink and she already hated it. “Said he guessed they wanted Malfoy Enterprise as a sponsor or something.” 

“You don’t think he’s going to sponsor the Joining Ceremony, do you?” Ginny asked as Hermione stepped out from behind the curtain with a frown. The dress was pretty but it was too big to be tasteful on Hermione’s slim frame. 

“That would be the most logical guess, now that you say it,” Hermione told her. “I’m sure it’s the Wizengamot trying to make it seem like everyone who is someone is going to be on board for this law,” she reasoned before Ginny gave a thumbs down. She went back behind the curtain to take the dress off. 

“Merlin, I guess he’ll be at the ceremony won’t he?” Ginny’s eyes grew wide.

Hermione paused, a hint of fear coming to her from her previous thoughts. “I hadn’t considered that,” she said nervously. She grabbed the next dress, it was black and had a long flowing skirt that draped in big waves.

“Merlin be with the witch that gets paired with him,” Ginny said. “Can you imagine coming home to Malfoy Manor and that blonde prick every night?!” 

Hermione bit her lip as she wiggled out of the pink dress, “Oh Merlin, the Manor…” 

“Yeah, as civil as he was in the elevator I find it difficult to believe all the shit he’s done has just disappeared from his personality all together,” Hermione heard Ginny’s words from behind the curtain. 

“I… you’re probably right,” Hermione said, not wanting to doubt either side of things. She couldn’t deny the optimist in her that was always searching for the good in everyone, yet she couldn’t forget who they were talking about. They knew Malfoy well. 

“And like I said, no one’s seen him in forever, at least I haven’t,” Ginny reminded her.  
“It’s not like he’s been at the other Ministry events or we would have seen him and confirmed this niceness long before now. We’ve been to all the events and parties, with the exception of you as of late.” 

“Yeah well, let’s just say even though I work for the Ministry I don’t fully support their use of galas and events for their own popularity,” muttered Hermione from behind a bunch of fabric. 

“I thought we’d fixed the corruption leftover after the war by appointing new officials and the like, but I’m not so sure we did enough now…” When Hermione got the dress on she finally stepped out from behind the curtain and took a look in the mirror. It was a fairly nice choice, she had to admit.

“That’s not bad,” Ginny pointed out as she attempted to straighten the overflowing bottom which had bunched around Hermione’s knees. “And I’m with you on the popularity thing. I think we need to convince some of those older members of the Wizengamot that they need to retire,” Ginny said seriously.

“They’re too stubborn to retire, they believe they know what’s best for our generation and then next. That was fine after the war, their guidance was needed and appreciated immensely,” Hermione explained. 

“But now… well, they’re restraining the wizarding world from coming into its own,” Hermione sighed, finally voicing her opinion out loud. The skirt of the dress wouldn’t straighten and Ginny was growing frustrated; she gave up and sat back down. Hermione was losing hope, not just on finding a dress. 

She went back to the dressing room to try on the last dress, a simple dark blue one made of soft fabric that she rather liked. “Let’s just tell Kingsley and have him fire them all,” suggested Ginny with a laugh. 

“I wish he could,” Hermione said. “Too bad there’s a balance of power, the whole point of the Wizengamot you know.” 

“Yeah, yeah, this is why I’m not in politics, too many little details,” Ginny waved a dismissive hand. 

“That and you’re the best chaser the Harpies have had in centuries, but whatever,” smiled Hermione. The compliment was well accepted and Ginny smiled, blushing. When Hermione came out from behind the curtain, Ginny nodded her approval. The dress fit well in all the right places. 

“I like this one the best. Come on, let’s go get lunch, I’m starving,” Ginny said, realizing it was now getting into late afternoon. She grabbed the other dresses and left to put them back on the rack. 

Hermione blinked, admiring her friend’s quick decisions. She had always liked how Ginny let her instincts guide her, it was what made her such a good quidditch player and friend. She took one last look in the mirror and tried to smile. One week, she thought, that’s all we’ve got. One week before everything changes… 

Sighing, she walked back into the dressing room to change back into her clothes. When she drew back the curtain one last time, a hanger caught and she watched as the dark green dress Ginny had pulled out earlier fell to the floor. Hermione reached down to pick it up. As she stared at the dark green fabric she became transfixed, reminded of Malfoy’s tie. 

He sure was something, surfacing back into reality all of a sudden. She had always thought that casual conversation was beyond his scope of ability and, yet, there he had been, giving her all the courtesy in the world. 

But a twinge of suspicion nagged at her mind. He was as pureblood as they come and a Slytherin no doubt. Ginny was right, they couldn’t forget his past; the cunning and ambitious side of him might still be playing a part. 

And that’s what worried her. With the Joining Ceremony close at hand, she found herself wondering which unlucky witch would be paired with him and she just hoped it wasn’t her…

“Hermione, come on!” Ginny shouted from the front of the store and she was suddenly shaken back to reality. Hermione thrust the dress back onto the rack; she didn’t want to dwell on her old classmate more than necessary. Grabbing the dress she wanted, Hermione headed for the counter.


	4. Drinks and Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (truthfully I'm no good at these summaries lol)
> 
> Draco meets Theo for happy hour and Ginny and Hermione grab dinner. Will the snakes and lions meet up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plan was to update with a new chapter every Wednesday, but I'm not going to have wifi tomorrow, so I figured I would gift you with a Tuesday post :) enjoy and let me know what you think!

Draco Malfoy walked down the street, checking his watch to see if he was late. It was only two thirty-five and he was on his way to have drinks with Theo Nott at The Black Cat. It was a bar just outside the city center that had killer fire whiskey and an even better happy hour. 

As he walked, he considered all the questions still rushing through his mind from the meeting he’d had with the Minister a few days ago. He couldn’t believe the audacity of the Wizengamot. 

A Marriage Law from the dark ages sounded like something his father and all his dumb little friends would come up with, not the current wizards and witches he knew sat upon the high court since the war was over. When he’d owled Theo about it, Theo had informed him that, sadly, he already knew.

When he got inside the bar it appeared to be quite empty, but Draco knew it wouldn’t be long before people would be out of work. Fridays always inspired a heavy crowd. He found Theo in a corner, a drink already in his hand. 

When Draco walked up Theo handed him another glass from off the bar and smiled. “Hello Draco.”

“Theo,” Draco said, taking the glass and having a sip. The hot liquid went down his throat quickly and he welcomed the delicate taste. 

“Aye mate, how are you?” the weariness leaked out of Theo’s mouth then. 

“Alright, given the circumstances... how’s the Healer life treating you lately?” It had only been a week since they last saw each other and while they both knew why they were meeting up, their upbringings held their courtesies in place, even now.

Theo rolled his eyes. “It would be great if I’d actually been doing much healing. I told you I already knew about this preposterous decree, but it’s because I’m one of the ones working on it instead of doing my real job,” Theo explained. 

“Sorry I didn’t tell you or Blaise or anyone, it wasn’t my choice really and they asked for discretion. I’ve been so busy...” 

Draco sighed. “Ah, discretion,” his voice was snide as he shot Theo a look of understanding. They’d heard that before from the Ministry, specifically concerning their own trials. Needless to say, there wasn’t much discretion then. 

Theo only nodded. “Yeah, they’ve been good about it this time. You know, if I’d have known being Head of Potions would have demanded so much from me, I wouldn’t have taken the position.” 

“Now that’s a lie,” Draco corrected, knowing Theo all too well. It wasn’t until after the war that his best friend’s talents emerged, but Draco knew he loved what he did. If only Draco had the knack for something as noble; he had been fairly good at potions, but not that good. He sighed before shaking away the thought and taking a sip of his drink. 

“Fine, it is,” Theo said reluctantly. “But that doesn’t mean making this whole goblet thing isn’t absolutely ridiculous. I should be back at St Mungos...” 

Draco wanted to laugh at the whole ordeal. He had when Kingsley told him about the Goblet of Unity and the details of the law, but it still sounded so absurd. Did they even consider the chaos the law could bring?

It was common knowledge there were still families that didn’t accept that Voldemort had lost; Draco couldn’t be the only one reading about the disappearances of muggleborns that kept creeping into the Daily Prophet, even now after the war was over for some years. It made him sick, the guilt still lingering even after he’d survived his trial and begun to make amends. 

This law would certainly upset those families and the people responsible for the disappearances. It might even increase those disappearances, increase violence. He sighed. As much as he didn’t want to believe this was happening, here was one of his best friends confirming it. He couldn’t doubt the twinge of fear that crept up his spine just then. 

Draco swirled the ice in his glass. “The Joining Ceremony: A Marriage Law Celebration, Kingsley called it,” Draco gave a short, empty laugh. “Sponsored by none other than Malfoy Enterprise and Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes Incorporated. What a bloody event.” 

“Merlin, that is a mouthful. I can’t believe the Minister wanted your company to sponsor it. He’s really trying to get participation from everyone of importance, that’s for sure,” said Theo, draining his glass.  
“Makes sense, when you consider the Wizengamot is just trying to ensure magical bloodlines stay intact and all…” Theo raised his eyebrows, his voice overwhelmingly sarcastic. 

Draco rolled his eyes, as unconvinced as Theo. He leaned over the bar, searching for the bartender to order them another round. “So that’s what they're calling it these days, aye? When we were still on the dark side of things, Voldemort had another name for wanting to ‘ensure magical bloodlines’ and people hated that,” the disgust in his voice evident.

“Yeah, but Voldy’s plan didn’t include the muggleborns and half-bloods,” Theo reminded him. “At least everyone’s in the same boat here.”

“It’s still wrong, even with the inclusion,” Draco said, as the bartender finally came over. He set two more glasses down in front of them and Draco laid down a few gold coins. The bartender smiled as he walked away, the large tip Draco left not going unnoticed. 

“Obviously, but the law is binding once it’s cast and it’s long since been cast,” Theo stated. “We don’t have a choice and we’re probably still going to get shit, being who we are. We’ve changed a lot since the war but...” 

“But it’s not like everyone believes that,” Draco finished for him, playing with the empty glass in his hand. 

“So you see the consequences like I do,” Theo said, a statement more than a question. “I’ve said so much to the rest of the lot working on this too; at least they agree.” 

It was some time before Draco ventured to speak. While he and his few friends knew they were making the best efforts they could to make amends, showing they’d changed, not everyone believed they had. And that was a scary fact if they were about to be married off to witches who didn’t believe them. 

This was a slippery slope on both ends; changed purebloods worried about being married to untrusting muggleborns, and fearful muggleborns forced to marry traditional purebloods. A recipe for disaster. 

“Oh yes, I see the consequences,” Draco sighed again. “I see a lot of buried anger, distress, and resentment ahead. Possibly violence if the wrong people are paired...” Draco said. Theo looked at him, eyes flashing with consideration.

There was silence between the men before Theo talked again. “But I guess it will come down to who we are paired with. I was instructed to use some of the more true aspects of Amortentia. We included them and the portions that include who you are attracted to, your values, what you look for in a match and the like.” Draco nodded for him to continue.

“There’s one or two other potions I’m still working on that Granger’s been helping me sort through for magical compatibility. As bloody brilliant as she was in school that one, she’s still stubborn as hell.” 

Draco gave a smirk. “Ah, Granger,” he managed, realizing then that there was no way the Golden Trio wasn’t involved. He thought about their encounter in the elevator and smiled. 

Theo continued before Draco could share, “Lovegood, Potter, and Weasley have been working on the goblet too, much to Potter’s annoyance. I think he’s as eager as me to get on with his real job, and for good reason. All those muggleborns turning up missing or dead...” he looked at Draco seriously. Draco nodded. 

“And then there’s Macmillan, I think he’s got it the toughest. He’s in charge of making sure this bloody goblet works out at all. Combining all our charms and potions and spells and the like.” It seemed he forgot about the rings completely. “And we’re working on it at the Ministry so officials are always ensuring we can’t tamper with it.” 

“That’s a hell of a lot of people involved though,” Draco realized. “But I’m not really surprised, I guess. They all specialize in something helpful to the cause, not to mention Kingsley would of course want the Golden Trio backing this whole thing.” 

“Exactly. The Ravenclaw Patil twin is editing the law, trying to amend it to include some fairness, making six of us total. Crazy last few weeks, but all of it together… well it should ensure we at least can have something in common with our future significant other,” Theo explained. He sounded like he wanted to be more sure of himself. 

Draco wasn’t listening; his mind had wandered back to thinking about Hermione Granger. She seemed different when he saw her than she had years back in school, different from the broken memories he had of her during the war too. Maybe because he was finally not trying to figure a way to insult her and her friends, he was able to see her as a real person for once. 

The war seemed to harden her a bit and he wondered if it was just a front. He wondered what she was like behind closed doors. If she still read books with the crazy eagerness of a child or was still doting after the youngest Weasley boy despite her less than thrilled comments about quidditch pitches and traveling. 

She was still dangerously smart though, Theo said as much. He admired that a lot, always had, to the point of jealousy in school on several occasions. And, while she was a muggle-born, he wasn’t sure cleverness would be enough to match them. It would take a lot more than just smarts and her aging into good looks for him to be ready for Hermione Granger to be his wife. 

They’d had their differences, major differences for so long; he was bound to be paired with someone who wouldn’t think of the past so much like she was bound to. The past didn’t just disappear after a few exchanges during an elevator ride. He knew that much based on her clipped responses. 

“The real question is this,” Theo said, clapping Draco on the back without warning and bringing him back to the present, “will any muggle-born actually be compatible with the Draco Malfoy?” Theo laughed, trying to make them both feel better. He waved a hand for the bartender again. “Or maybe your sorry ass will just have to settle for a lovely halfblood.” 

Draco gave a timid smile, coming back to reality. He saw Theo had drained his second glass. Drinking the rest of his own, he looked up, “I don’t know, but I’m sure that goblet of yours will find someone.” Draco couldn’t come up with any muggleborns that could tolerate him, now that he thought about it. “Hope I don’t frighten her too much. This is going to be some adventure…” 

When the bartender had placed two more glasses beside them, Theo turned back to hand Draco another drink. “Her. Good one,” Theo stated, paying more attention to pronouns than his friend; Draco didn’t realize at first. “Oh, it most certainly will be interesting.”

“Shit mate, I’m sorry,” Draco realized then. “What are you going to do? If the plans are to maintain magic bloodlines, they basically want to pair people to have children. Is this goblet going to accommodate people attracted to the same sex?” Draco asked seriously, feeling awful for not thinking it sooner. 

Theo had managed to keep his sexuality hidden from his parents out of fear of disappointment; pureblood parents were more concerned with getting heirs to their name than anything. They would have been less than happy to hear he was more into his male friends than any of Mr. Greengrass’s daughters his father kept bringing around.

Theo rolled his eyes and took a minute to look about the room. When he saw they were still pretty much alone, he gave Draco a sly smile. “Yeah about that. Seems no one has brought it up, despite the fact the more I talk with her the more I think Lovegood isn’t as straight as they come either. Anyway, I’ve decided not to remove that aspect of Amortentia. Let’s see how the Wizengamot deals with that at the Joining Ceremony,” he laughed. 

The look of astonishment on Draco’s face said enough. He held his glass up to clink with Theo, showing his approval. “I see the Slytherin in you hasn’t completely left,” Draco said after taking a sip. 

“But really Theo, have you thought at all about options they could force on you even if you get paired with another man? I mean, it’s the Ministry we’re talking about, they aren’t going to let anyone slide through.” 

“Not really no,” Theo was honest and he shrugged. “Let them deal with that when the time comes.” 

Draco shifted on his feet. “Well, I’m only thinking about if they find out what you did and they become unhappy because of it… you know, with the whole point to repopulate magic bloodlines, it really puts a damper on things if you can’t have kids,” he was trying to make this clear to Theo so he realized how serious a situation his friend might find himself in. 

“True,” Theo considered for the first time since coming up with his brilliant plan. “You think they’d force us to figure something out? Pair us with a surrogate or something?” 

Draco weighed this option but it sounded like a lot of hassle. Instead, he considered something else. “Well, Malfoy Enterprise donates money and volunteers to plenty of charities,one in particular came across my desk last month that might be of service in this case. It’s called Orphan Outreach, works to get homes for all the magical children that got displaced from the war.” Theo looked at him curiously. 

“Would you believe there’s still loads of children that are living in boarding, not yet adopted or anything? Plus there’s a sector of the program looking to find magical children that were placed into hiding by their parents who haven’t been found or never got letters because Hogwarts was closed. Maybe we can use this as a means to appease the Wizengamot. Same sex couples adopt a magical child in 5 years’ time or something of the like when they’re ready for a family. It’s a solution in some sense,” Draco offered.

Theo took a long drink from his glass and then stared at his friend with steel blue eyes. He was contemplating Draco’s seriousness in all of this. “That’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he finally said. “Except I really am not fond of children one bit.” 

Draco gave a chuckle. “Well, we’ll give you an older kid then, one who’s already past the shitty infant years.” Theo smiled. 

“You still surprise me with these little ventures you do now, you know that?” Theo said then. “Who knew you had a heart this whole time, what with that shitty tattoo and all.” 

Draco gave a small smile as he glanced at his forearm. Even with his jacket sleeve covering it, the old dark mark seemed to know it was being talked about. He could feel his magic just underneath it, pulsing when Theo had spoken of it, even after the connections had all been severed. It annoyed him to no end.

“Thanks Theo but let’s not get all sappy,” Draco straightened. “It’s just a solution. And I think the actual tattoo was the least of my worries when you consider who it connected me to.”

“What? Death eaters and Voldemort and your shitty father just a touch away?” Theo said, “Nah, sounds marvelous.”

“Fuck that,” Draco’s wicked laugh was biting, “my father was more than a touch away, had the bruises and scars to prove that. And Voldemort and his cronies too, once they moved in.”

“Ugh, I literally forget that all the time. I’m sorry I brought it up, Drake. Come, let’s change the subject. It’s morbid enough without bringing up the death brigade. This bloody new law,” Theo said, looking around at the crowd beginning to gather around the other end of the bar. He checked his watch, seeing it was just past 4. 

“Come on, let’s get a table or something then. Early Dinner. We should eat before we drink ourselves into a stupor,” Draco reasoned, draining his 3rd and with that, he left to grab a table in the back. 

Hermione and Ginny sat at a table upon the sidewalk, surrounded by a lovely garden wall that enclosed all the patrons dining outside at the Black Cat. While it was a bar, its food proved to be phenomenal and Hermione found herself at peace for the first time in a long time. At least, as much peace as she could find. 

Finishing off her second glass of wine, Ginny looked at her seriously. “A week. A week is all we have. We’re going to be married off and we don’t have any choice, and here we are sitting here drinking.” 

Hermione looked half like she wanted to cry, half like she wanted to laugh. The pressure of the week was collapsing on her; when she chose the latter, Ginny couldn’t help but chuckle too. “I don’t see the big deal Gin, I just can’t wait to be Mrs. Marcus Flint. Hermione Flint, how lovely it sounds.” 

“Oh, you really think you’re compatible?” Ginny managed, holding in a laugh. “I peg you as a Blaise girl myself.” 

Hermione’s eyes got wide, “I think we need more wine.” 

“How about Mrs. Seamus Finnegan for me, eh?” Ginny laughed almost uncontrollably. “Could you imagine the mouth on those kids?!” 

Hermione had to wipe her eyes. This was better than getting upset over it all, she reasoned, despite the anger still bubbling in the background of her mind. She pushed it away again. “Aye, now that would be a sight…” 

“Anything is better than a Slytherin,” Ginny frowned, trying to act serious again as she grabbed her glass only to remember it was empty. She put it down with a sigh. “You’re right. We do need more wine,” she said sadly. 

“Ginny,” Hermione tried, but she couldn’t muster anything convincing. 

“No it’s fine, I’m sorry,” Ginny said. “We were having a laugh and I turned it all serious again. I don’t mean to keep doing that but… it’s too real.” 

“I know,” Hermione said, reaching across the table to place a hand on Ginny’s arm. “I know. We just… we have to make the best of this. Slytherin husband or no.”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t stand having to come see you in some swanky palace of a house just to say hi. Not to mention if I’d even be allowed, shit,” Ginny put her chin in her hand.

Hermione looked down. “That would be just awful,” she realized. Ginny slammed a fist into the table. The witches at the table next to them glanced their way nervously. The waiter was equally as weary as he stopped to see if they needed anything. Hermione ordered more wine and waited for him to leave before speaking. 

“Look Gin, this is exactly why the Wizengamot wants to do this,” Hermione said at last. “Because stereotypes are still hanging around. Violence is still happening and well… they think it’ll help repair the wounds that are still open.” 

“Yeah well, it’s not like my mind is going to change when you force me to shack up with a snake. It can’t bring my brother back from the dead,” Ginny’s voice was defensive and harsh, but Hermione knew she had every right to be. 

“It won’t,” Hermione told her. “All the loss won’t just go away. All the hurt doesn’t dissipate this easily. I don’t really know what the Wizengamot was thinking…  
”  
“I don’t know if I can do this, Hermione. I really don’t know. We’ve joked about it, sure, but in a week when we're all standing there in front of this goblet, what’s going to happen? How calm is anyone going to be?” Ginny stated, her voice harsh with irritation.

Hermione sighed, unable to come up with anything comforting to say. She bit her lip. Ginny spoke again in her silence. “It just keeps biting us in the arse!” 

“Because it is vile, simply vile,” Hermione’s voice got quite loud all of sudden, her irritation coming back to her. But before Ginny could respond, someone interrupted her.

“Please tell me you aren’t talking about me now, are you Granger?” Draco smirked as he leaned over her shoulder. 

A rosy blush sprang to life on Hermione’s cheeks, no thanks to the wine. Ginny blinked in disbelief. Behind Hermione, Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott had just waltzed up like they were entering some party. She eyed them both with contempt. 

“I- “ Hermione tried but before she could formulate her words properly, Theo cut her off. 

“Ah, they’re speechless in our presence, Draco, they were definitely not talking ill about us,” Theo said, his voice smooth and light as he approached the side of the table. Draco stood at Theo’s side. The smile that twisted his lips up was something wicked; Hermione watched him with suspicion. 

Ginny sneered. “We aren’t speechless you snake, just annoyed. Not really enjoying our meal being interrupted like this. What do you want?” 

“Oh nothing, we already ate, thanks. Just enjoying some drinks,” Theo stated calmly, shaking the ice in his glass. “Just like you, I see.” Theo eyed the empty wine glasses. “Hermione, how are you holding up?” 

Hermione welcomed his kindness. When they first were told they’d be working together, the tension was evident. Neither wanted to get to the point of being friends. But it didn’t take them very long to realize they hated the law for much of the same reasons; soon, old grievances fell and, for that, they had both been grateful. She gave a weak smile.

“I’m okay, thank you for asking… one week, you know, and it’s really been putting things in perspective,” she said sighing, before realizing what she was saying. 

Her eyes got wide as she looked from Malfoy to Nott and back again. Did Malfoy know about the law, she thought furiously, had Nott told him everything or was he about to find out because of her stupid big mouth?!

When Draco saw her panic, he chuckled. “Calm down Granger, I’m well aware of the ceremony and all, unfortunately. You’ll be interested to hear that it is the Ceremony that the Minister wanted my company to sponsor. Go figure.” 

Ginny exchanged a nervous look with Hermione. “A sponsor? You’re kidding!” exclaimed Ginny. “Why you?” 

“The Minister is trying to make it seem like we are all on the same side, all supportive of this. He’s ensured all the most important people are represented,” Hermione explained easily, but the irritation underlying her words did not go unnoticed. 

“Are you saying we’re important now,” Draco said, nudging Theo. “How sweet.”

Hermione narrowed her gaze at him, but it was Ginny who spoke. “Don’t act like your name hasn’t been worth ten thousand galleons since the day you were born Malfoy,” she sneered. At that, both boys laughed. 

“I don’t know if it’s worth that much anymore, what with the circumstances of the war and all,” Draco reasoned, “Malfoy Enterprise, however, is doing quite marvelously.” 

Theo smacked him. “But Granger’s right, it makes perfect sense why he chose Malfoy Enterprise. And your brother’s company for that matter. What better for the Minister than having both the good and the bad come together over this stupid law?”

“Stupid is right,” Ginny said without hesitation. 

“Look at that, we all agree on something Weasley,” Draco raised his glass to her before taking a drink. Ginny wasn’t impressed. 

“Watch out, you two just might be compatible,” Theo warned laughing. Draco sneered.

Ginny let out the most unladylike laugh. “Oh fuck no,” she howled, “not in a million years would Malfoy and I pair.” She looked at him and laughed again. “I know how much you enjoy watching the Harpies play, but definitely no.” 

Hermione snorted. “You watch the Harpies? Since when?” she laughed, not believing Ginny’s words. She knew he liked quidditch but she found it impossible he liked the Harpies; there were two muggleborns on the team.

“Calm down Granger, I’ve been a fan of the Harpies since third year,” Malfoy said, “a team of fierce women working towards a common goal in my favorite sport? Yes please.” Hermione eyed him interestedly. 

“It’s the only sport we have,” she reminded him, trying not to laugh, but Theo managed for her. He couldn’t keep quiet.

“Ha! Watch out Draco, she might just get to you,” Theo warned. 

“Oh on the contrary Theo, I believe I’ve already gotten to her,” he stated with an air of satisfaction. “What with that lovely elevator ride and all. Bet she’s still thinking it over. Come on Theo, we’ll leave them alone so they can talk about it.” 

Before Hermione and Ginny knew what was happening, the boys were walking away. “Oh and Granger,” Draco called over his shoulder. When she looked him in the eye he pointed just under his, bringing her attention back to those stupid bags under her eyes.

She blinked incredulously in his direction as he and Theo disappeared back inside the bar. Ginny looked at her. “What in the bloody hell was that?”

Hermione still looked like she couldn’t find her own voice. But when she did, it came out a bit strained. “That, Ginny, was the Draco Malfoy I was talking about. Weird, huh?” 

Ginny stared wide eyed at where the boys had left. “He sure is something, whatever he is now.” 

Lost in confusing thoughts, Hermione could only nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the witty banter. I know readers are anxious for the Ceremony but we've got a few chapters more before that happens... I hope you stick around for it!


	5. A Visit from an Old Professor...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Theo discuss their encounter with the Gryffindor gals and then Hermione gets an unexpected visitor...

CHAPTER 5

Back inside the bar, Theo ordered two more drinks before turning to Draco with a smug look. “So what in Merlin’s sagging pants was that back there?” he laughed, taking up the glass the bartender left. 

Draco tossed three more galleons on the counter. “Nothing,“ he said, not meeting Theo’s eyes. 

“Oh it’s not nothing when I witness you actually speaking normally to Hermione Granger. No wait, not normally, nicely? Was that it?” Theo was egging Draco on. “And did I detect a hint of flirting or...” 

“I wasn’t flirting,” Draco said quickly. “If I continue to be a prick, I’m no better than I once was. And I am better, a lot better. I wouldn’t be making this any easier for us by holding grudges.” 

“True,” Theo reasoned, “It’s just amazing. I really never thought I’d see the day,” he sniffed, looking around the bar to see if any other acquaintances were present. Draco gave a half-hearted chuckle.

“I’m still as much of a snarky arse as I’ve always been though. You saw how annoyed she was getting. But she was right, we have a week, that’s it,” said Draco staring at the liquid in his glass. 

It wasn’t like this law hadn’t made him consider a lot of things in life. Yes, he had been making changes for the better, but it wasn’t like he and Hermione Granger, muggleborn war heroine, were friends after the war. He wasn’t friends with Harry or Ron either. 

And he knew this law meant getting paired with some muggleborn, most likely. And it could very well be Hermione Granger as his wife next week. She had grown up to be a beautiful, respectable woman, it wasn’t that; he just wasn't sure she would enjoy being married to an ex-death eater. He had thought about it a couple of times already but by all accounts it couldn’t happen. The Wizengamot wasn’t that heartless to its saviors, was it? 

“One week until this bloody plan is in full swing and everyone is miserable just like us,” Theo said with a frown. “Look at them all,” he gestured to the clusters of witches and wizards now surrounding the bar, “they won’t know what hit them.” 

Theo’s words pulled Draco out of his own mind. He took a minute to observe the room. Two girls he remembered from the Gryffindor quidditch team sat at a tall table in the corner with the obnoxious commentator Lee Jordan. A number of Ravenclaws sat clustered at the opposite end of the bar with two short men who Draco recognized as Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas. One or two other old classmates milled about, saying hello and buying drinks for each other. A man in the shadows flashed gold eyes at Draco interestedly. 

It was strange, thinking back on Hogwarts days and all the changes that would take place in the near future. The people before him looked almost happy, the remnants of war not reaching them now. He wondered how many bad memories would resurface next week if pairings ended up crossing lines. The tension would be thick and suffocating. 

“Draco, Theo, not surprising finding you both here,” Blaise Zabini’s deep voice rolled up over the chatter. He was dressed in a regular black suit, his golden eyes standing out as he looked from Draco to Theo. 

“How are you Blaise?” Draco put a hand out. 

They shook before Blaise replied, “Not bad, could be better but…” 

“And why’s that? Meeting with clients all over the coast not as fun a venture as it used to be?” Theo laughed. 

Blaise was head of investments for his father’s company after his father died in the war. Now, Blaise seemed to always be traveling. They used to specialize in the sale of magical artifacts, a cover for all the dark magic goods his father could get his hands on. Now, they dealt with inventors and creators whose magical ideas needed help getting off the ground. 

“Well, let me just tell you the most unlikely client just showed up in my office yesterday…” Blaise started, before making sure no one could overhear them. He ushered his friends away from the bar, “and he had the most disturbing news.” 

Theo and Draco exchanged a look of intrigue. Draco sighed. “Let me guess, did Kingsley Shacklebolt approach you too?” 

Blaise blinked, “Yes, how did you know?”

“Malfoy Enterprise is also backing the Joining Ceremony,” Draco stated distastefully.

“Welcome to our own little hell,” Theo smiled as he sipped his drink. Blaise took a long gulp of his own before speaking. 

“Shit, so this is seriously going to happen?” Blaise said incredulous. “I was hoping it was only tentative or a scare tactic or something. The Minister didn’t share too much obviously, but he made it known I didn’t really have a choice,” Blaise said.

“Oh Blaise, you don’t know the half of it,” Theo drawled, rolling his eyes. “Just you wait.” 

~6 Days Until the Ceremony~

Saturday morning was foggy, gray and foreboding. It was the kind of morning that gives warning to stay inside and to keep warm. Summer was slipping away too quickly and fall was eager to take its place. The winds whipped around the city streets rattling trees and sending newspapers flying. 

Ministry officials had busied themselves in the Owlery all night, praying none of the owls would get lost. At dawn, the first fifty tawny barn owls soared away from the open window in all directions with golden ribbons tied to their legs. The small gold envelopes they carried delivering the dreaded invitations for The Joining Ceremony. 

~3 Days Until the Ceremony~

Hermione sat at her desk late into Wednesday afternoon, finally done with preparations for the Ceremony. Invitations had gone out and, to many people’s dismay, arrived on Saturday morning. The excitement at what they thought was going to be another fun Ministry party quickly disappeared when they saw the words “Marriage Law.” 

When the tiny dark brown owl that delivered her invitation woke her up from her dreams of a disastrous wedding where she was marrying Vincent Crabbe, it didn’t help her mood. Three other owls quickly arrived when she was making breakfast, all with letters from reporters begging for interviews. She threw the birds some bacon before tossing the letters in the trash. 

The Daily Prophet went crazy with articles, fully supporting the Ceremony with eager anticipation while other newspapers and magazines showed mixed support. The Quibbler had much to say concerning a lack of confidence in the Wizengamot’s abilities to lead the community, citing more than one example besides the law. Hermione smiled at this when it arrived on Sunday. 

When she went to work on Monday morning however, she was displeased to find the mob of reporters waiting in the lobby for her. She was even more irritated by the three that sat outside her office door. 

She shooed them away and made it a point not to make any comments on the matter at hand. Yet every day they were back to try to get anything they could out of her. She had taken to locking her office door. 

The Goblet of Unity was going through its last tests and then it would be set to choose their fates come Saturday. While the invitations and newspaper articles had caused quite the uproar, she couldn’t help feeling relieved to finally be back to her real job. 

Hermione sat pouring over three different files open in front of her, hoping to make some headway. The first one detailed a string of thefts happening in several local potion shops, noting the most common missing ingredient as the very expensive bicorn horn. 

The next was a murder report for a young muggleborn, Denny Curting, found dead in his barn three weeks ago. There were bite marks all over him and it appeared the work of werewolves. None of the bite marks matched the database the Ministry kept on known lycanthropy. This idea of new werewolves being spawned would not bode well for the Aurors when Hermione submitted this to their department tomorrow.

The last file was the one open in front of her that the owl had delivered to her last week on her way to work. It held a picture of a boy and a girl, smiling up and waving as they were running away. They had been reported missing three months ago but their reappearance was noted on two occasions by store clerks in London.

One of the clerks had actually managed to take the picture before they disappeared. As Hermione stared at the moving photograph, she saw a glimmer of light pass between the pair as they waved, shining off of what looked like matching bracelets. 

Hermione had her elbows on her desk, her chin in her hands as she looked at the file. The boy in the picture had yellow eyes that reminded her all too much of Fenrir Greyback. It gave Hermione chills to look at him too long. 

They both looked so young but the file stated each was of age. The girl had a nasty cut running up her neck all the way to her ear. Hermione remembered reading that a pair of clipping shears was found with Dennis Curting’s body, like he had tried to defend himself. She wondered if that was the cause of the wound.

She began writing down notes, trying to come up with a plan of action to take so her mind wouldn’t wander to the ceremony. She went back and forth between all the pictures, looking at the backgrounds and all their movements, identifying anything of importance she could as the faces continued to grin up at her menacingly…

Three hours later, she had a good four feet of parchment, a plan to submit to Harry, and a list of things she needed to research. It was the first time she felt like she’d accomplished something in a long time. Eying the clock on the wall, she saw it was nearly 7:00pm. With a yawn she began to close up all her reports and files and store them away for tomorrow. 

When she was ready to leave, she grabbed her coat and bag and headed for the elevator. She almost didn’t see the bespectacled tabby cat that sat outside her door and jumped back in shock when it meowed. 

In seconds, the cat leaped forward and Minerva McGonagall was walking towards Hermione, a troubled smile on her face. Hermione sighed in relief before embracing the woman dearly. “Oh I’m glad you aren’t a reporter. Professor, it’s good to see you.” 

“It’s been a while Miss Granger,” Minerva McGonagall said as she hugged the young woman. Minerva McGonagall looked much the same as she had when Hermione had had her at Hogwarts; her gray hair was wrapped in her typical bun and she wore maroon robes. 

Hermione locked her door with several enchantments before turning to the woman. McGonagall gestured to the elevators and they started walking, her robes swirling as elegantly as ever. 

“I’m quite sorry to startle you, my dear, but this isn’t something we can simply ignore,” she said, the concern in her voice evident in the quiet of the hallway. “I had to come straight away but it’s been… difficult.” She gave an irritated look. 

Hermione sighed, already knowing what this was about. “The Marriage Law’s got everyone in a bloody mess.”

“Yes, and as I tried to come as soon as possible and was delayed, I found even more evidence to support my suspicions about this so-called Marriage Law,” McGonagall said when she saw the look of fear that had crept to Hermione’s face.

“Suspicions? Of what exactly?” Hermione asked, not believing what she was hearing. “I mean I know bringing back such an ancient law is preposterous, believe me I tried to fight it on several fronts, but when they said they’d already gone and done the enchantments I nearly lost it.” 

“I don’t blame you at all, this whole thing is suspicious. For starters, someone is tampering with incoming Floo. I ended up several times in Yorkshire, three towns over and the other time I landed in Diagon Alley. It’s almost as if on purpose because I was articulating perfectly fine,” she reasoned. Hermione looked at her, confused.

“I don’t floo in myself, I rather like to walk in the morning and I don’t live far, but that isn’t right, by any means,” Hermione said nervously.

“You’d almost think someone didn’t want people getting in,” she looked to Hermione with raised eyebrows. “And then I noticed you cut off your own flat to the Floo, but I don’t blame you- for good reason no doubt,” she said before Hermione could apologize. 

“Reporters not leaving you alone? Potter and Weasley too, I imagine…” she tsk-ed in obvious irritation. 

“Anyway, then I thought about apparating and well apparition to and from the Ministry is heavily monitored now, after the war and all. But you used to be able to get to the visitor’s entrance at least and I came to find it was gone,” she explained further. 

Hermione stared, wide eyed. “They haven’t mentioned anything like that to us. No one uses that entrance and everyone who’s a worker either comes in the main entrance or has a different access to floo. Professor, this… this is a big issue. Something is wrong,” Hermione managed to say, the thoughts running fast in her mind. 

“Exactly my thoughts. With this strangely archaic law coming back into play all of a sudden I knew I needed to speak with you Miss Granger. You are rational enough to understand the more complex implications of such a law,” she stated, but the compliment did not make Hermione smile and nor did she intend it to. 

“All I’ve done is think of the consequences Professor, you can just imagine. It’s totally unethical and unthoughtful really, when you think the whole goal they are selling it on is mixing blood lines. Nowhere is there any proof it will do that at all!”

“I cannot believe Kingsley wouldn’t fight harder to change the Wizengamot’s decision,” Hermione vented, still frustrated with his lack of care for the wellbeing of her and her friends. They had been through so much together, dammit! 

Minerva McGonagall sighed. “Well, I will let you know that I spoke with Kingsley just last week, as friends are won to do in these situations. I think the Wizengamot plotted behind his back, to be truthful, but he didn’t really seem that upset about it,” she eyed Hermione. 

“It was strange. I think we both know Kingsley Shacklebolt would whole-heartedly defend witches and wizards such as yourself to the death. In fact, he already has on more than one occasion,” McGonagall reminded her.

“I know Professor, but he won’t even meet with me or let us try to form a case against the Wizengamot,” Hermione stated, remembering how many times Kingsley had been resilient and stubborn with the Wizengamot in the past. 

As she thought about all their interactions over the past month, she remembered that she hadn’t actually seen Kingsley in two weeks. He had avoided three meetings last week alone and this week his secretary refused to get back to her. “Wait, how did you even manage to meet with him?” she asked then. 

“I caught him late in the night, had to sneak into his own house actually,” Mcgonagall said then. “It was unusually heavily guarded by several witches and wizards I did not recognize,” she said, cocking an eyebrow. 

“When I asked about them he said they were newly recruited aurors… Kingsley Shacklebolt would not need brand new aurors guarding his house unless he had something to hide.” 

Hermione straightened. “What the hell? Harry would never stand for new trainees on Minister guard duty either. What is going on?” She started to walk towards the elevators, unable to stand still any longer; Mcgonagall followed her. 

“I agree with you Miss Granger. We both know Potter too well for that and Kingsley for that matter. Please, do not blame him. He is acting under forced pretenses that he obviously couldn’t talk about. We must uncover this sooner rather than later. That is why I came to find you, although I was half worried you had tried to flee the country when you heard of this outrageous law.”

Hermione sighed. “I thought about it, that’s for sure, until I heard about the punishment for leaving…” They made it silently to the elevator landing and Hermione reached out a hand to push the button.

It wasn’t the first time the idea of leaving the country was presented to her as a response to this stupid law; Ginny had tried to get them all to pack up and move to Romania with Charlie until Hermione found out it was impossible. The Wizengamot had seen to that. 

Anyone of eligibility could not apparate out of the country and, if they were found leaving, they would have their wands confiscated and memories removed. No more magic forever. 

Hermione cried all night thinking she’d rather be forced into a marriage than lose the only place that felt like home, than lose her magic. She didn’t have her parents to go to anymore and she couldn’t face not having Ginny and Harry and Ron. 

It was a sad reality the Wizengamot was forcing on them and now with Mcgonagall’s suspicions to back up some of her own ill thoughts, things were starting to look especially gruesome. 

With a ding the elevator arrived and the women stepped inside. McGonagall turned to her when the doors closed. “Look Miss Granger, the Wizengamot has been continually restraining his power. He revealed to me that they did not wait for Minister Approval on this before enacting it, using an old form of enchantment to do it. It's binding magical law and now it cannot be undone.” 

Hermione looked suddenly furious. “What?! Why the hell would he hide that information, we can hold a hearing! We have to have those officials questioned. I’m not letting this as something they can get away with, the Order helped hand-pick more than half of them, I-“ 

“Miss Granger please, we cannot do anything, it’s too late,” McGonagall said reluctantly, but Hermione looked ready to explode. “Calm down my dear, look, there’s something bigger happening here. Something more and we need to step up and get out of the dark about it.” 

“I just… I cannot believe this is real. How could I have not seen anything wrong until now? I’ve tried so hard to make this place peaceful, to bring justice back to the magical world,” Hermione’s face welled up in tears.

McGonagall’s brown eyes grew very sad. “I am sorry Miss Granger, but do not blame yourself. We’ve all been trying to move on since the war ended. It is not a crime to believe that things like this were put to rest, even after people you trusted were put into position.”

Hermione sighed. “Thank you Professor, for both your kind words and this information. I have given this some thought myself, many times actually, especially since this law came out. But I just don’t know why it’s started up all of a sudden, you know? Or who would be behind it all…”

“It is someone who is unable to let go of the past,” McGonagall stated with a frown. The elevator had stopped and the doors clanked open. McGonagall followed Hermione out into the lobby and towards the main entrance. 

They got outside and past the anti-apparition points without speaking. She halted and McGonagall looked around, trying to make sure they were alone. The shadows from the buildings on either side cast long lines on the street in front of them. 

“I know Kingsley did not want to say anything, maybe he couldn’t say more than he did, and that’s why I’m coming to you. This is something bigger Miss Granger, we must take action, be alert. I believe this is only the beginning.” 

Hermione was at a loss for words. McGonagall wouldn’t have come to see the Minister or herself if she didn’t truly think there was an issue. Something wasn’t right with all this and they needed to figure it out. Something was wrong with the officials of the Wizengamot; corruption, the Imperius, Polyjuice. Fear froze her voice in her throat. 

It could be any number of things. The more Hermione considered it, the more sense it made. She felt guilty assuming this was all Kingsley and his stubbornness. There was no way she was blaming him now. 

But that didn’t stop her thoughts from racing: What sort of corruption had found its way into the Ministry, behind her watchful eyes and those of Harry and Kingsley himself? What did they hope to accomplish and who was actually causing all this to start?

Before Hermione could find a way to speak, a rustle of paper caught her attention from the alley. Both women whipped their heads around, their wands were in their hands. 

A single piece of newsprint floated down to the ground, no one accompanying it; it was an eerie sight considering their conversation. 

“Be careful Miss Granger,” McGonagall said under her breath as she eyed the paper suspiciously. “We’ll be in touch,” and with that she turned on her heel and vanished. 

Hermione quickly departed to the library near her flat. It was a habit she learned from Moody during the war, along with disconnecting your home to the main floo line. Using alternative locations made it more difficult to be tracked. She walked the rest of the way. 

But that night she laid awake tossing and turning; what were they going to do? As her eyes finally started to drift closed late into the night, she remembered the stolen potion ingredient in the report. Bicorn horn- its most common use was in polyjuice potion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Sorry this got posted so late, my day flew by without me. I might just be tempted to post another chapter tomorrow or Friday, who knows!


	6. Decorated in Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Trio discuss possible Wizengamot sabotage and we finally begin the Ceremony...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was going to post on Wednesdays, but I just am too excited with all these reviews not to give ya a little something :) enjoy!!!

~2 Days Until the Ceremony~

Hermione rushed through the flames of Harry and Ginny’s flat without so much as a hello or an owl. It startled the two, who were currently sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, not looking at one another.

Ginny’s arms were crossed on her chest and it appeared she had been crying. Harry looked tired, the apprehension clinging to his features. His elbows were on his knees and he was rubbing his temples. 

“Hermione,” Harry said looking up at her. 

“Hi Harry, Gin. Look, we need to talk. McGonagall came to visit me yesterday and this information is important,” Hermione said quickly, walking over to the kitchen. 

She pulled out her wand and waved it at the kettle; it filled itself with water before landing on the stove under a flame. Four tea cups came down from the cabinet with her next swish. “Gin, can you get your brother here, I think Ron needs to hear this too.”

Ginny got up, her frown still hanging on her mouth as she threw some Floo powder into the flames. She vanished and Hermione turned to Harry. “What did you say to her? Hello, Harry Potter?” 

Hermione was waving a hand in front of his face; he was staring into the flames where his girlfriend had just disappeared. When he realized what she was doing, he shook his head and looked up at her. 

Harry sighed. “What? I’m just trying to make the transition not hurt her so much…” Harry looked miserably at the fire. 

Hermione stared. “What do you mean?” 

“Look around Hermione, we still have all our stuff here like we’re going to be fine! Like we aren’t going to be paired away from each other in 2 days and everything is going to fall to shit!” Harry looked exasperated.

“I’m trying to force her to stay with her parents. At least that way it won’t be so hard when… when the time comes…” the sadness consumed his voice and leached out into his features.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said, coming to sit next to him. She took his hand in hers. “I know this is hard for you two, but you can’t think this way right now. You just can’t.” 

“You know I tried to marry her as soon as we found out about the ceremony?” he said quietly, turning with a frown. “I was about ready to elope, planned to take her to Paris the next night. But then I let it slip and Kingsley said it couldn’t be done, urged me not to test the magic of the law. He said it was too late and, well, now I might never have her. I-I can’t face that again!” Harry said, getting up. He started pacing by the kitchen.

Hermione’s eyebrows raised at the mention of Kingsley’s warning. It fit all too well with her talk with Mcgonagall; she sighed.

“Harry I’m… I’m so sorry. Really. You two are more than compatible though. And I’m not just saying that because I’m your best friend,” she eyed the back of his head knowingly. Harry slowed his pacing and turned to face her; a weak smile came to his mouth.

“Harry, you and Ginny, you’re meant to be. You’ll find a way… try to have hope, okay? We’re going to need each other, we really have no idea what we’re in store for and it’s going to be here all too fast.”

Before either of them could say anymore, the fireplace roared to life again. Ginny came back through the flames followed quickly by Ron. “Hey guys,” he said. “Uh, how are you?” his voice sounded confused as he eyed his distraught best friend in the kitchen and his clearly upset sister. 

“How does it look like we are?” Ginny sneered, taking a seat in the armchair at the opposite side of the room. She glanced at Harry but looked away before he could catch her eye. 

“I was just trying to be nice Gin,” Ron said, taking a seat next to Hermione. She didn’t really mind, they all needed each other right now. 

“Look, can you all just stop? Harry get over here, Ginny calm down! We need to stay strong, the worst is yet to come,” Hermione stated. “Besides, I wanted you guys here because McGonagall came to speak to me yesterday. Something’s up with Kingsley, she said. And she thinks there’s something wrong with the Wizengamot.”

Harry leaned on the back of the couch. “Can’t say I’m surprised at her suspicions. I’ve been having them too since his assistant said he’s been out almost all week- been taking meetings with the Wizengamot last minute and the like. Was starting to sound fishy to me.”

“Doesn’t sound like Kinglsey, does it?” Ron said, confused. “Come to think of it, he hasn’t been at any of the meetings I’ve gone to with George, you know about funding the Ceremony. Just been Ministry reps.” 

“I’m glad it isn’t just Mcgonagall and I then,” Hermione stated before launching into all Mcgonagall had shared with her last night. She told them about the suspicious aurors, Kingsley’s uneasiness, and the floos being cut off.

“I mean, let’s be serious,” she said at the end of her story, “this law sounds an awful lot like something the Death Eaters would resurrect,” she looked around, her fears evident in her face. 

“And we can’t ignore the muggleborn disappearances that have been crossing my desk and Harry’s. Guys, something is happening again… something bad.” 

The word “again” stuck out to them all; it seemed like the terrible memories of the war weren’t ever going to go away. How could so much hatred and sadness exist in their little world? Hadn’t they already been through enough?

Harry raked a hand through his hair. “Well, I certainly am not putting up aurors for Kingsley’s protection like that and I haven’t approved of any new ones in the field. This means they’re working for someone else and they’re not truly aurors...”

“The only question is who,” Ron said, his face getting blotchy with anger. “We’ve been so preoccupied with who we're going to end up with that we’ve overlooked all this. Wonder if they knew we’d think that way…” 

“That’s more than probable,” Hermione sighed. 

“The Ceremony is only 2 days away though,” Ginny frowned. “We haven’t got the time to really do anything, the Ministry has been watching you all.” 

“Yeah,” agreed Harry, “Not that we’ve let that stop us before…” Hermione almost laughed at this. 

“As much as I’d like to jump right in, even Mcgonall was cautious. She didn’t seem to think this was going to be easy in any sense. I think we’re going to have to do some investigating of our own the best we can first and really plan our actions out. And if that means we get new spouses along the way then well, we’re going to have to deal with it. We need to protect everyone else.”

“Like old times really,” Ron said with no excitement. It was clear his sarcasm didn’t need to be acknowledged; the agitation was all over his face. 

Hermione, who was speaking the most level headed, was still more frustrated at herself than anything for not seeing this sooner. She sighed as she asked Ginny for some spare parchment. She needed to make a plan.

~0 Days~

The last thing Hermione Granger needed was to be late to another one of the Minister’s galas. No, to this Ceremony specifically. Fear crept inside her as she glanced at her watch and she hurriedly scribbled a few last thoughts on the case file in front of her. 

This “party” was going to be the death of her and most of her friends, she just knew it. Not to mention the suspicions behind it all. For two days straight she’d searched and researched, letting nothing go untouched. 

She closed the files and notes on her desk at her flat rather abruptly and stood up. There wasn’t much time left in the early evening before everything would change. The anticipation inside her that had been subdued while she had worked bubbled right back to the front of her mind. 

She headed for her bedroom where she quickly showered, letting the steam roll around her to try and ease her nerves. She thought about all the cases she had been looking at the last two days, trying to figure out any connection to the Ceremony and Kingsley’s weird behavior. 

So far she was coming up short; all that could be reasoned was that a pack of werewolves was starting to gain quite the reputation around several small towns and cities in England. 

At least two of the muggle murders could be cover ups for werewolf attacks, but she wasn’t sure. With Fenrir Greyback still unaccounted for since the end of the war and his reputation for biting and turning countless individuals, it seemed the only lead that made sense. She needed to talk to Harry about it, but the timing was obviously not ideal. 

She shut the water off and stood for a few seconds in the cold. The timing isn’t ideal because of this stupid Ceremony, she huffed to herself. This morning, she had to connect her floo to the ballroom where the Ceremony was taking place. It wasn’t that complicated of magic, but it annoyed her all the same.

I can’t believe this is actually happening…. In a few hours I’ll be paired in front of everyone… who will it be? she wondered for what felt like the fiftieth time. 

She stood there frozen, thinking of all the men from Hogwarts she had known, ones that would make okay partners and ones that would be awful. A shiver crept up her legs as the steam finally dissipated and she was brought back to reality. She grabbed a towel and went to get ready. 

Her dark blue dress was laid out neatly on her bed with a sparkling silver necklace and matching earrings. When she’d bought the dress with Ginny it had fit quite well, with its V shaped neckline, long sleeves, and a slitting skirt to make her legs look long. 

But two days ago, when she’d tried it on again just to check, something felt off. It suddenly felt too big in the torso and the skirt too baggy. Her lack of an appetite over the weeks due to the stress of work and the Law had finally caught up with her. 

After searching for what felt like ages for the book Molly Weasley had given her one Christmas, Two Hundred Magical Household Mends, she had performed a spell to try and alter the dress. She hoped it would still look as nice as it had after the spell when she put it on tonight. 

Another half hour passed as Hermione did her hair and she was ready, zipping up the back of the dress with ease. She walked back out to the living room in search of her shoes. 

When she got there, she grabbed her wand off the desk and tucked it in a hidden pocket before walking over to the big mirror hanging by the fireplace. As she approached it, it expanded to be full length so she could take her whole outfit in. 

She stared at herself half in disbelief at the comedy of it all; dressed to impress for a husband she didn’t even want or choose. How stupidly ironic, she thought. Inspecting the sides of the dress she bit her lip, wondering if she had taken it in too much. 

The letters to the word sultry made their way across the top of the mirror then. It was an enchantment Hermione nearly forgot about until this moment. She scoffed, it had been a Christmas present from Fleur no doubt, but she hadn't used the full length feature in so long.

The sound of a crack from the fireplace made her turn away and, suddenly, Ginny was emerging amongst a burst of green flames. Her black dress was shining against her pale skin and her red hair was flowing down her back, the sides pinned up with shining diamond clips. She looked amazing. 

“Damn Hermione,” she said without holding back. “Really trying to blow everyone away at such a morbid event?” Ginny eyed the dress and the mirror. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Come on Gin, I just took in the sides. And you should shut it,” Hermione said to the mirror. The letters vanished in an instant.

“Oh sure,” she said, walking over to inspect her own silhouette. “Scoot over. I might as well make sure everything is in place for this shit show.”

Hermione sighed. “Where’s Harry?” she asked, knowing full well they’d been spending time apart. Harry, always the precautionary gentleman.

“With Ron,” Ginny stated firmly, no hint of warmth in her voice. “He’s been staying there the past 2 nights anyway.” The word vivacious appeared above her head and she sneered at it.

“How are you holding up?” Hermione questioned.

“I’m doing as okay as I could be right now. I’ve been out flying most of the day, running drills with Angelina to keep my mind off things. Helped to an extent.” 

“You know I’m with you no matter what,” Hermione tried, but Ginny was having none of it.

“That’s sweet and all Hermione, but I plan to be drunk out of my mind before the ceremony even begins as a big ‘fuck you’ to the Wizengamot, so, no worries here.”

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but thought better. “You know, that’s probably the only sane way to get through this.” 

“Now you’re on my level!” Ginny laughed, pulling a flask out of her purse. “Here,” Hermione smiled for the first time all day and it felt strange when so much of her being was alive with anxiety. Hermione took a sip from the flask before setting it down on the table. 

Ginny was smoothing her dress as Hermione looked around for her shoes again. She busied herself with getting things straightened up so her mind didn’t wander to all the what ifs. 

Finally seeing the shoes peeking out from behind the armchair, Hermione snagged them up and sat on the couch. As she buckled the straps one at a time, the clock began to chime. It was 7 o’clock. 

Ginny looked up from the mirror and stared at the clock like it was writing her death certificate. Her face paled, the first bit of worry finally showing itself. Hermione fumbled to buckle the second shoe and took a deep breath before standing. 

She walked over to her friend and grabbed her hand. “You ready?” she asked, voice uneven. 

“No,” Ginny said. 

Hermione gave her hand a squeeze and pulled Ginny towards the fireplace. Green flames sprang to life as the women approached the hearth. They paused just before entering and glanced at one another. In seconds they disappeared, headed for the Ceremony, the nerves a shadow clinging at their heels.

…

The venue chosen for such a ceremony could not have been more elegantly decorated despite the tension filling the air. It was an old castle, much smaller in size compared to what they were used to at Hogwarts, but with all the same charm. 

When Hermione and Ginny stepped out of the fireplace they noticed several more lining the wall on either side; apparently, this hall was built as a sort of landing area for all incoming guests. Witches and wizards in red robes were directing everyone where to go as several more pops and whooshes of flame came from all sides. 

To their left, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan stepped out of a fireplace in matching suits. They brushed off the soot from their shoulders, Dean looking particularly nervous. Hermione nodded at them and Seamus gave a weak smile, clearly too annoyed at the whole ordeal for much small talk. 

Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson arrived at the next fireplace down. Pansy wore a gold accented, floor length green dress which reminded Hermione of the one Ginny had shown her at the store, only much prettier. Her pug-like face was already wrinkled in complete distaste. 

Before the Slytherins and Gryffindors could spot each other, workers ushered them up a staircase and Hermione was thankful. She didn’t want to hear what she assumed would be endless complaining from Pansy and smug remarks about the decorations from Blaise. She hurried along with Ginny up the stairs. 

When they reached the top, a long hall opened up in front of them. Ornate dark wood made the whole place look grand, everything decorated in white and gold. At the end of the hall was a tall, marble stand in front of huge windows that overlooked a frigid lake in the distance. No doubt it was where the Goblet of Unity would be placed, its dark backdrop making everything about the night all the worse. 

On the left side of the hall, a winding grand staircase with a dark gold carpet was shimmering in the candlelight. The white and gold decorations streamed across banisters of the upper level seemed to wrap almost all the way around the hall. Several people were milled about upstairs, drinks in hand and talking quietly. Many were glancing around every so often, the worry evident in their eyes. 

Tables were placed around the right side of the room, which led on to a patio with a garden. The plants looked touched in a frost that had just rolled in, but the doors were closed to keep out the chill. Fireplaces stood on either side of the three sets of French doors and at the back of the room, giving off plenty of heat. 

Ginny pulled on Hermione’s elbow to lead her to the bar in the corner, eager to get a drink to calm her nerves. Pavarti and Padma Pati, dressed in lovely shades of purple, were in line and two other wizards Hermione remembered from a year or two ahead of them stood waiting after them, one checking his watch rather incessantly. Theodore Nott was leaning on the opposite side of the bar, a glass of dark amber liquid in his hand. 

When they got in line, Theo came over. “Hello ladies,” he said with a curt nod. “Tonight’s the night, huh. Feels strange… you can tell everyone’s about to lose it.” 

“Well no shit,” said Ginny without care. “Aren’t you?” 

Theo gave a hollow laugh. “Yes and no,” he said. “I’m not entirely sure the Wizengamot knows what they’re doing. Hermione, you know as well as I what went into that bloody Goblet. It’s time to finally see where this takes us… all of us.” 

Hermione considered his words for a minute. He was right when thinking about the Goblet but the Wizengamot was another story. “They might not like exactly what is to happen with the Goblet, but I’m not convinced they don’t have even more to hide,” she said rather truthfully to someone she wasn’t fully sure she could be honest to. But after working with him for a month or more, Theo seemed the least likely of the Slytherins to cause harm. Maybe she’d luck out and get paired with him. 

Ginny elbowed Hermione, their suspicions of the Wizengamot didn’t need to be discussed here. 

Theo raised an eyebrow anyway. “On to something Granger?” he asked curiously. “Look, you’re not the only one surprised that a Minister like Kingsley Shakebolt would approve of this. I’ve been doing my own digging, mind you,” Ginny looked confused at his genuine response as the line moved up. 

Hermione hesitated. “I’m looking into the Wizengamot and some other things, just in case. Our world can’t handle another…whatever this is,” she said then, unsure if the use of ‘war’ would be too much here.

“You aren’t wrong. Stay in touch Granger, it has been nice working with you for sure. I hope it can continue, if you’d want the help,” he gave a faint smile, as he spotted Blaise by the door. “Take care tonight,” he ducked away as they finally reached the bartender. Ginny ordered drinks for them as Hermione stared in his wake. 

“Do you think he was being serious, about keeping in touch and all?” Hermione said. 

Ginny shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be paired and then you won’t have a choice.” 

The bartender poured their glasses and handed them over with a smile. Ginny rolled her eyes in annoyance and ordered two shots of fire whiskey just to spite him. Hermione looked annoyed but Ginny thrust the shot glass into her hand and downed her own; she was off before Hermione could even blink. 

Hermione shrugged and took the shot, shaking her head to stop the fire from really burning her throat. Maybe it would help her ease the fear starting to creep up her bones. Or at least ignore it, she thought before she headed out into the growing crowd.

…

Draco Malfoy took one last look at himself in the gorgeous mirror hanging from the wall of his study before eying the clock again. How late could he be to this event before someone came looking for him? 

He straightened a cuff link of gold and picked up his glass. The ice in it clinked as he drained the remaining liquid, the fire of it burning down his throat. For a second the irritation he was feeling about the night went away. 

In a few short hours he would be coming home with a new bride, unsure of just how untrusting she would be. He wished he didn’t care so much, but the anxiety was driving him crazy. It had been days of no sleep as he considered all the possible women he could be paired with and how all would look at him with scorn, disgust, fear. He sighed as he threw his glass into the fire. 

Why would nothing ever feel easy? He wondered as he braced himself for the worst. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and disappeared, leaving the comfort and safety of home behind.


	7. Snakes Never Say Die, but Choosen Ones Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's check in with our lovely Slytherins: What are their thoughts on the Joining? Once a scapegoat always a scapegoat, the Ministry usually says...   
> Or is it just coincidence...  
> And then maybe a little bathroom deja vu for two of our characters

Stepping out of the fireplace, Draco looked around at the vast hall. The other fireplaces that lined the wall seemed empty for now, but, with soot on the ground and a warmth lingering, it was clear they were just recently used. A wizard in uniform gestured him towards the stairs and as he walked toward them he heard several more cracks signaling the arrival of more people. He didn’t bother turning to see.

Draco reached the top and paused, taking a deep breath. He had decided not to travel with Theo, Blaise or Pansy, who had most certainly asked him to accompany her as her date, weirdly enough. 

He had wanted to take the time to really not think about what was going to happen. He’d done that for what felt like weeks upon hearing about the stupid law. He knew if he’d gotten ready and traveled with his friends they’d certainly have the law as their one and only topic of discussion all day. And he just couldn’t take that. 

But his plan hadn’t worked. He’d spent hours trying to distract himself only to come back again and again to thoughts about the night’s events. It reminded him horribly of a death eater plan from back in the war days... Now, at the top of the stairs, it felt like his shoulders held weights. And it would seem he wasn’t the only one.

He stepped into the ballroom and saw it was filled with witches and wizards mingling around, some talking, some having drinks; all of them tense. He walked slowly, trying to keep anyone from noticing him. A Ravenclaw from his year that he vaguely remembered from Charms class stared at him over his drink, eyebrows raised. The Hufflepuff girl beside him quickly pretended like she wasn’t staring. 

Draco walked up towards the bar, but, seeing that the line was quickly growing, he made a detour and beelined behind the tender. He leaned over and saw the bottles of fire whiskey on the floor. 

With a subtle wave of his hand one of the bottles flew up, poured him a glass, and then returned to the ground. With another wave the glass was in his hand. Draco put a galleon on the counter as a thanks, wondering why at a gala such as this they didn’t come prepared with enough bartenders to handle the volume. 

He walked over to one of the sets of French doors. The icy patio and lake outside made him wonder just where they were. The Ministry always picked secluded but beautiful old castles and manses to hold their ceremonies. They were always in some random place along the countryside, but, compared to here, it had been pleasant in London lately. People had been eating outside at the bar only days ago. 

It was then he remembered who he and Theo had seen days ago and he scanned the room for Granger and her red haired friend. They must be a mess, he thought. He scanned the room and, instead of finding the ladies, Theo caught his attention, looking irritated. 

He was standing in a corner by a fireplace, drink in his hand and Pansy chatting his ear off. Millicent Bulstrode and Gregory Goyle stood nearby, looking as annoyed as could be. Goyle’s huge frame looked suffocating in his dress robes and he appeared like he wanted to punch a lot of people in the room. 

Draco hoped Goyle wouldn’t and also wondered what would happen if fighting really did break out. Did the Ministry plan ahead at all for that? Draco glanced around, trying to see if any aurors were hanging in the shadows, but he didn’t see anyone. Pansy finally saw him and called his name. Reluctantly, he headed over, if only for Theo’s sake. 

“Draco there you are, can you believe this? Look at all these fucking people,” she sneered with gritted teeth. She was scanning the crowd with distaste twisting her features, “all waiting for the same fucked up fate. We look like herded cattle ready to go to our death at the slaughterhouse.”

“You could say that again,” Draco said as he approached. He braced himself for the conversation ahead, wondering what sort of mood she would be in tonight. You never knew what you’d get from her and he figured that, in light of the circumstances, she’d be spiteful. 

She had at least gotten over her school-age obsession with him and they had found solace in friendship during the dark times of the war. But that was not to say she didn’t irritate Theo, Blaise, and Draco from time to time, what with her constant input on every little thing they did. She also had a bad habit of letting her sarcasm run on the verge of insult. 

“Ugh, the last thing I need is to get paired with that red headed weirdo,” she said then. Draco and Theo followed her gaze over to Ron Weasley, who was talking to Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. Ron was dressed in expensive looking dress robes in his team’s colors and he looked especially irritated. His arms crossed over his chest. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were nowhere to be seen. 

“Oh Pansy, that wouldn’t be too bad. Box seats to every quidditch game, that’s right up your alley,” Theo reminded her, rolling his eyes behind her back. 

Draco chuckled. “He’s made quite the name for himself don’t forget.” 

“That’s the perk I’d get? Hanging around sweaty guys all day? Count me out. I put up with quidditch for your sake, Draco, and that’s it.”

“You’d get to travel, I know you’d love that,” Draco said, remembering what Granger had said about not enjoying that luxury of dating the youngest Weasley. He figured he’d leave out the part about not getting to see the sites or anything. 

“I thought you heard the travel wasn’t all that fun,” Theo said under his breath with a smirk. Draco elbowed him in the ribs. 

Pansy turned back to the boys. Upon seeing Theo trying to stifle his laughter, she eyed them suspiciously.

“Oh relax Pans,” Draco replied, seeing her sneer. “With all this bullshit going on in the Wizengamot I’m sure you could use your best snooping skills to find who’s behind it all and pay them to pair you with someone better.” 

While he was completely joking, Pansy seemed to contemplate this as a viable option. “You know Draco, sometimes you have such good ideas,” she smiled. 

“Mrs. Pansy Malfoy has a lovely ring to it, doesn’t it? We’d make one of the best pairs out there, even if you didn’t care enough to be a good husband,” she said laughing. 

Draco blinked, wanting to vomit. Theo couldn’t hold back his laughter. “I would rather spend life married to some daft woman like Romilda Vane or a Hufflepuff like Ernie Macmillan than be paired with you,” Draco said with bite in his words. Pansy stuck out her tongue, looking childish. 

“Watch it Draco,” she said. “With comments like that I wouldn’t have guessed you’d steal away potential partners from Theo here,” she gave a wicked smirk. 

Theo rolled his eyes. “Please leave me and my sexuality out of this. Thank you.” Theo exchanged glances with Draco; they had agreed not to tell Pansy anything about Theo working on the Goblet or his little tweaks to include same-sex couples. It was not information she would do well with anyway. 

“Fine,” Pansy said. “But it’s not like this shit isn’t rigged. You said it yourself the Wizengamot’s falling to shit Draco, and they want mixed bloodlines.” 

“Now Pansy, don’t sound so insensitive. Your pureblood pride is showing,” Theo tsked. 

“I don’t want to be paired with some of the muggles because they’re annoying and dumb, not because they’re muggles. But of course all us bad purebloods will be paired off, one by one, to good little muggleborns just to make sure that blood is mixed around.” 

She tilted her head, annoyed. “I’ll end up with some idiot like Michael Corner who can’t see his way out of a cauldron. Millie over there will probably have unfortunate luck and be paired with Zacharias Smith. Obsessed with blast-ended skrewts that one.” 

“You know Potter is half-blood. Maybe the Wizengamot will really shake things up and you’ll be paired with the Chosen One,” Theo laughed. Draco smiled over the glass he was bringing to his lips. 

“Oh yeah? And which one of the Slytherin men is lucky enough to be paired with the queen of the Golden Trio, miss know-it-all Hermione Granger herself?” Pansy slated, looking smug. “Now who’s laughing?” 

Draco decided not to think too much on the words Pansy just said. She had never liked Hermione Granger, probably because she had always been jealous. School never came easy to Pansy and her parents were less than thrilled every time they received her average marks. 

“Actually, Granger might be an easy pull, you’d never have to see her. She’d hide away with her books and law work!” Pansy was practically cackling.

Draco was getting tired of hearing her talk. “Pansy shut it. Have you made an effort to grow up at all in the last eight years since the war ended? This isn’t school yard chatter anymore, this is our lives.” 

Pansy’s eyes grew wide. He knew the comment would hurt her; she struggled more than most to show she had changed. Her sarcastic bitchiness hadn’t just been part of being a Slytherin; that had been part of her personality all along and it made it hard for even her friends to put up with her sometimes. But tonight she wouldn’t relent. 

“Getting a soft spot for Granger, aye? Maybe you would make a good match for her after all. You always did look jealous of Viktor.”

Draco felt even more tense than when he walked into the place. His voice grew colder, “well if this thing is rigged like you say, then I won’t be paired with Granger in a million years. The Wizengamot would be too scared I’d torture her despite my efforts at rebuilding a respectable life.” 

“Merlin this whole thing is creating more conflict than unity,” Theo said between his friends arguing. 

“Maybe that’s exactly the intention,” Draco stated. He had been thinking about this the past few weeks and knew it was the right time to voice his concerns, “it’s not like Shaklebolt to be so irresponsible.” 

Pansy sighed, putting their differences aside. “Alright, alright. You have a point. You’re not the only one still trying to make amends from the war and this whole thing reeks of ex-death eater,” she said seriously. “It’s like someone wants to see chaos break out again.” 

Theo considered this, knowing he had already spoken with a very suspicious Granger earlier in the night. With her thoughts about all the witches and wizards they’d worked with on the Goblet, things really weren’t adding up. 

And then he remembered reading the Daily Prophet this morning and seeing another muggleborn disappearance. It had only got a small mention on the second page. “I’ve been suspicious for longer than I care to admit, but what death eaters would want to mix bloodlines? That was never really on their agenda,” Theo was skeptical.

“Not like this at least,” Draco eyed Theo with a knowing look. Something from their past was playing on his mind and he knew Theo was thinking it too. Having been a part of the death eaters for so long, it was easy to see how this twisted law looked all too familiar.

Theo sighed, “I do hope you’re wrong Draco. The last thing we need is another… whatever this is.”

Draco nodded, bringing a creeping silence to them all. Draco looked around, pretending not to let it bother him. But how could he forget the thoughts of old death eater plans and stupid ancient laws taunting his mind all week? He downed the rest of his glass and smoothed his features into an emotionless void. 

“Okay can we calm down?” Pansy said quickly, changing the subject. “We have bigger things to tackle tonight. Seriously, who will we be paired with? Aren’t you guys the least bit worried our future spouses aren’t going to be friends and then it will be that much harder for us to see each other?” 

Theo shrugged. “Well, this Goblet thing is going to pair us with people we can tolerate, at least that’s supposed to be the point of it. Hopefully, they’ll at least remember each other from Hogwarts, maybe had some classes together…” when Pansy started frowning, Theo changed his approach, “we’ll find time to see each other Pansy, I promise.” 

“Yeah Pansy, you don’t have to worry. You’ll be paired with Fluffy, that three-headed dog. I always wanted a pet and the hound could use a nice bitch,” Draco said with a laugh.

Pansy swatted at his arm. “You asshole. You are going to eat your words and then some. Just you wait until that Goblet is ready to spit out your name, Draco Malfoy, and you’ll be pissing your trousers!” With that she downed the wine in her glass and took off for the bar without saying anything more.

Draco and Theo watched her leave, feeling rather relieved. Pansy could always see under Draco’s façade and Draco didn’t like that. He shook his head to try and clear it all away. He needed to keep a level head.

But it didn’t work, so he downed the rest of his glass and excused himself from Theo. He needed some space, some fresh air to really get his mind off of things, but it was much too cold on the patio for that. Instead, he headed to the bathroom, hoping some water to the face would at least relieve the anxiety filling his mind. 

…

After Harry had made sure there was no one else in the bathroom, he finally broke. He leaned over the sink, his hands shaking. He was trying so hard to keep it together, for all his friends and for the love of his life, but it was starting to really break him. 

He had seen Ginny being taken away from him twice in his life. Second year, before he really knew how much she’d mean to him, he watched as Voldemort’s sixteen year old self had drained her life to supply his own. And then again, during the war, when he spent nights in anguish in the tent with Hermione and Ron, hoping beyond hope he wouldn’t hear her name on the radio in the list of the dead. 

It had been torture being away from her then, not knowing where she was or if she was still living, still fighting. And then, when he did get to see her again at Hogwarts, it had felt surreal, everything hanging by a string. Yet at least he knew she was alive. Until he realized he had to die. The hardest part of giving his life over to save everyone had been knowing he wasn’t going to be with Ginny ever again. 

But in the strange world of magic, his death had saved everyone. He got to live. He had managed to survive and save everyone, a noble feat. But now, how could he manage having her ripped away from him for a third time? And this time, marry another? He slammed a fist down on the sink, rattling the faucet. He almost didn’t hear the door open. 

When Harry took a breath, he looked in the mirror only to see Draco Malfoy staring at him wide eyed. They stared at each other for a minute before Draco stepped fully inside and closed the door. It didn’t take long for Draco to comprehend what was going on, all the sights were there. It was obvious Harry was upset and Draco really felt for him.

“Potter,” he said with such overwhelming sympathy in his voice that confusion took over the upset features of Harry’s face. 

“Malfoy?” Harry responded, not really sure what was going on. It had been years since they’d seen each other, Draco’s trial probably being the last time. But, even then, Malfoy had been reserved, melancholic. He was different from the aggressive teenager he had been. Harry wondered what time had done for Malfoy now…. 

“The last time we found ourselves in a position such as this, the circumstances were much different,” Malfoy said with a small smile remembering their 6th year at Hogwarts and the unfortunate encounter they shared. 

Harry’s smile was weak, he looked more ashamed than anything. “I never really did apologize for that,” he managed, his thoughts flashing between the past and the imminent future before them. He thought of the utter stupidity of his sixteen year old self. He closed his eyes and shook his head. 

“Don’t apologize Potter,” Draco said seriously. “We were younger, naïve and playing at a man’s dangerous game. There’s much more to be concerned about now that school rivalries and curses found in ratty old textbooks are behind us…” he looked away, his anxiety coming back. Why did he just say that to Potter of all people? 

Draco waited, trying to gather some semblance of comfort for not only himself, but for someone he had never really considered a friend. Maybe it was because of the circumstances and all the bad thoughts, or maybe it was just because it was much too hard to keep on hating, or even it was because he didn’t want anyone to see him falling apart on a bathroom sink either.

“Look, I know I’m not the person you need or want to hear this from, but I know how you must feel. The Weasley girl means more to you than I think most people can comprehend and I’ve seen that look before. It’s a look my mother used to have for my father, as he started to drift off the deep end. And you can imagine how frequent that got as the war progressed.” 

Harry did not know why Draco Malfoy was choosing to tell him all this, but somehow it seemed to make a difference. He felt like he was seeing something in Malfoy he hadn’t seen before: a person. 

Harry watched as Malfoy put his hands in his pockets, his face a blank mask. “Don’t give up on her just yet Potter. You of all people deserve to be happy.” 

Harry turned to face Malfoy directly, blinking at the confusing man who used to be one of his biggest rivals. “Malfoy I- thank you. Seriously.” Malfoy gave a nod and a minute of silence passed between them, both unsure of what to do or say next. 

“Well, can’t say I was expecting anything like this from you, Malfoy. Maybe you have changed,” Harry managed, hesitating on his last words. “Hermione did say… nevermind.” He looked to the man in question for a sign of confirmation. 

Malfoy tried not to smile at the mention of Granger talking to Potter about him. He shrugged instead. “I’ve grown up. Time has taken its toll on me, on all of us really. It was time I started changing with it.” 

Harry eyed Malfoy, the tension of the room outside feeling like it was seeping into the bathroom despite their calm conversation. “I’m hopeful this isn’t some front Malfoy,” Harry said with a small tone of warning in his voice. 

Harry blamed it on feeling the worry of the night coming back to him then, but it didn’t hurt for someone like himself to still be weary of ex-death eaters. And to let them know it. 

Malfoy held up his hands. “I assure you, with the situation at hand, I have no reason to be cruel any longer,” he walked to the closest sink and turned the knob, letting the cold water run. “We need to be better than the past, not be close to repeating it.” 

He leaned on the sink then, staring at the strained look of his eyes. He wished Potter would just leave already. They’d had enough cozy talk for one night. Maybe Draco had changed, but that didn’t mean he had to become best friends with the Chosen One. 

Harry’s eyebrows raised, looking impressed with the calmness and maturity he was seeing. “You could say that again.” 

Another moment of silence passed and Harry headed for the door.

Harry opened it and looked back, “you know, you are going to surprise a lot of people tonight Malfoy, that’s for sure.” Draco was getting annoyed.

“Oh, don’t go all sappy on me Potter, the last thing I need is you and the Golden girls hanging around me like we’re all pals. I’m still a Slytherin, I’m still me.” 

Harry rolled his eyes but nodded his thanks once again and was finally out the door.

Draco took out his wand and waved it to lock the door. When he was alone, he splashed cold water on his face a couple times before staring back at his reflection once again. This time, he could see the anxiety pooling in his eyes. His brow was creased annoyingly. He was glad it hadn’t shown to Potter. 

But where the fuck had all that sappy shit come from? he thought, staring at his own mouth. He was still surprised at the conversation they’d just had. He was starting to think there was a guilty part of him that felt obligated to say it, like he wouldn’t get another chance in this lifetime. It probably wasn’t enough, all the shit he put Potter through.. At least it was something, he reasoned shutting off the water.

He took a few minutes to calm himself, enough so that by the time he emerged no one would be any wiser to the conversation he had or the fear he was feeling. His features revealed nothing. Besides, no one would believe that of Draco Malfoy anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how we're feeling after that whirlwind lol


	8. The Joining Ceremony, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joining Ceremony finally commences! Let's see just who gets paired and if they like their chosen partners...  
> And is there some evil lurking in the background? Of course our Gryffindor know-it-all will be the first to notice ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say THANK YOU so far to those who have read and commented!!! It has truly made my day to read your comments and know this is a well liked story/plot line (I was initially very worried about it, so yay!) 
> 
> I hope I can continue to keep your attention- the story will pick up now (sorry for so much pre-Ceremony set-up, but it felt necessary!) 
> 
> Thanks again and NOW, let's get on with the first 3 pairings ;)

Harry found George Weasley and Lee Jordan talking over by one of the fireplaces. Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell were also nearby, talking with Hermione on the couch. Relieved to find Hermione, he quickly headed over. 

Harry passed Dennis Creevey who was with two girls from his year, looking solemn. He gave a wave to Harry when he passed. On the other side of the room, Cho Chang was with her friend Marietta, both wearing draping blue dresses. Beside them, two other Ravenclaw boys stood looking at the gathering crowd. 

Michael Corner and Hannah Abbott stood in line for the bar, talking quietly. Ernie Macmillian was behind them, looking uncomfortable in his old Hufflepuff tie. Several girls were in line as well, all of whom Harry believed were Slytherins from two or three years after him. 

As Harry continued to look around, he tried to remember how many years Kingsley said the Wizengamot intended to include in this law; obviously, they had to make some sort of restrictions for the people already married. And it was the Wizengamot’s strict emphasis on already married that really pissed Harry off.

“Aye Harry. How are you?” George said, putting a hand on his arm in comfort. “Mum told me how Ginny’s been acting. I can’t imagine you’re taking it much better.” 

Harry sighed. “Thanks, it’s been tough on us all really. It has really taken a toll on your sister and it hurts that I haven’t been spending much time with her.” 

Lee frowned. “Don’t think that way Harry, it’s not helping you either way.”

“Yeah mate and think of it this way,” George tried, “our family is pureblood and you’re only half. There’s definitely a possibility.” 

Hermione saw Harry approach and, upon finishing her conversation with the girls, excused herself to speak with him. “Harry, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” she said, giving him a quick hug. He looked so tired.

“Hey Hermione. I was just in the loo, ran into Malfoy in there, believe it or not. Scared me half to death,” he explained, rubbing a hand through his hair. 

“Typical, aye? But Merlin, I would have thought he’d have paid someone off to get out of this,” Lee said.

“If only it were that easy,” Hermione said through gritted teeth. “Once they wrote it into official Magical Law it became completely binding.” 

Harry sighed again. “There is no way out no matter who you are. Trust me, I tried.”

“I went to a joint financial meeting with him and the Wizengamot over sponsoring this whole thing and let me tell you, not the same Malfoy, that’s for sure. Something was up with him, all casual and normal. Freaked me out actually,” George was wide eyed.

Hermione found this information unsettling. “I know what you mean,” Harry said, looking thoughtful, “but are we sure this isn’t just some sort of gimmick he’s playing at?” 

Before anyone could voice their opinions, a loud chime from the enormous clock at the top of the balcony began to sound. A hushed silence fell over the witches and wizards as they all listened for eight long, painful chimes. 

At the end of the last, the sound reverberated against the far walls, echoing the fears of all in the room. A sickeningly sweet voice came out of nowhere, replacing the chimes. It sounded like it was coming from a loudspeaker: 

“Hello and welcome to the Wizarding World’s first ever Joining Ceremony! A lot of excitement is filling the air I see, no need to worry! Your future spouse is eagerly waiting to join you, so please make your way to the south side of the ballroom so we can get started momentarily!” 

Hermione had gone pale. The drink in her hand began to slip. She managed to get a grip on it before it fell completely. Everyone’s eyes gazed over to the huge windows at the far side of the room where the white marble stand stood sentinel. There was no sign of the Goblet yet. 

Hermione reached for Harry’s hand and looked at him, his features frozen in a melancholy trance. He knew as one of the Golden Trio he would have to mask his fears, to look strong for the rest of his friends and fellow witches and wizards about to meet their fates. When he finally looked to Hermione, he knew she was thinking the same. She took a deep breath, trying to feel brave. 

“Come on,” she said quietly. “Let’s go find Ron.” Together they began a slow walk towards the south side of the hall.

…

The sickeningly sweet voice that had announced directions to everyone had come from a witch clad in a lively red dress. She floated down from the balcony after her announcement to stand in front of the white pillar. A ring similar to that around the Goblet of Fire was made in the tiles on the floor, marking the area where they all were to stand. 

As Hermione and Harry got closer, Hermione noticed a small group of people sitting in a row of chairs behind the circle. She eyed two of the officials they had met when Kingsley first told them about the law. The man with the bristling mustache and the witch with pink hair were chatting lightly with each other. Next to the witch was some fancy looking wizard in long gray robes; Hermione recognized him from the Wizengamot. 

There were two other witches from the Wizengamot who looked almost identical in their long skirts and delicate hats. Two more Ministry officials sat at the end, appearing bored. Behind them, a collection of reporters had gathered, talking quietly, adjusting magical lenses, and getting quick-quill pens ready. Hermione felt her ears grow hot. 

When she turned to look away, she noticed just outside the circle opposite the row of Wizengamot and Ministry members sat a wooden table decorated in gold. On top of it was a long, velvet lined chest that sat open, revealing several rows of what appeared to be identical silver wedding bands. 

Hermione looked away, fearful. She had forgotten all about the rings. What kinds of spells were on those? She wondered. She stared at her feet, feeling the nervousness bubble up in her throat. She downed the rest of her drink and then attempted to take some deep breaths. It seemed to help.

When she finally looked up, she noticed the witch announcer in red. She was smiling much too wide for anyone’s liking and her hair boasted of the same violent shade of red as her dress. It was clear Hermione wasn’t the only one wondering who the hell she was. Several people around them shot the woman looks of annoyance; the other half of the crowd was too nervous to care. 

Hermione and Harry approached the circle cautiously, not wanting a front row seat by any means. Hermione spotted Ginny off to the right, arms crossed looking ready to punch someone.

Ginny’s blue eyes shot icy stares at the witch in red, her lips forming an angry frown. Luna stood next to her. Hermione looked to Harry, who gave her an understanding nod. She squeezed his arm before letting go and Harry was left to find Ron on his own. 

Harry looked around the crowd again, noticing several of the Slytherins had gathered on the left side of the room. He saw Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini standing together whispering. Nott and Malfoy were next to them, their faces disguised in indifference. Several Ravenclaws had gathered nearby, keeping a little distance without trying to be obvious. 

It was only a matter of seconds before Ron approached Harry's side, looking on edge. Ron’s eyes wandered the crowd too. His hands fidgeted, but he clearly was trying to ignore them. Neville showed up to his right. 

The look of worry that plagued Neville’s face was reminiscent of taking their OWLs at Hogwarts. He leaned forward to Harry and Ron then. “Hey guys. How you doing? Better than I am, I take it.” 

“I wouldn’t put bets on that,” Ron said hollowly. “They need to just get on with it, I can’t wait around like this, its torture.” 

“That woman is torture,” George said out of nowhere, gesturing to the witch in red, still smiling disgustingly in front of them.

“Yeah, who is she anyway? I’ve never seen her before,” Harry squinted unhappily. 

With that, Harry’s and Ron’s prayers were answered and the sickly sweet voice of the witch in red spoke once again. 

“Hello there! It’s so good to see you all gathered here tonight and what a wonderful night it will be. Allow me to welcome you all to the Ministry of Magic’s first-ever Joining Ceremony!” she paused for applause, only receiving it from the group of Ministry officials behind her. The crowd before her answered with vacant and confused stares. 

“For those who don’t know me, my name is Wimberly Wilmont and I was graciously elected as the event coordinator for this marvelous ceremony. My associates and I have worked tirelessly to make this place sparkle on your big day. And I dare say, we did an excellent job, no?” she laughed at her own joke, but only the Wizengamot officials seemed to think she was funny. Hermione rolled her eyes. A few flashes from the reporters’ cameras went off before Wimberly continued. 

“Anyway, enough from me! It’s my honor to introduce our spectacular Minister of Magic, here to say a few words before things get going. Please welcome Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt!” and with that, she turned to look behind the row of Ministry and Wizengamot members to an empty door frame. 

This time the Ministry and Wizengamot members were not the only ones to join in her clapping. The crowd, however reluctant to be supportive of this law, still believed in Kingsley. He was a war hero and one of the best aurors the Wizarding World had ever seen. Hermione knew there had to be something forcing him into this whole ordeal, she thought as she slowly clapped along, watching the doorway for the arrival of the Minister. 

In seconds Kingsley appeared, waving to the crowd. His purple robes swirled past him as he strode towards Wimberly Wilmont and the pillar in the center of the circle, accompanied by many more camera flashes. Hermione watched as he smiled endlessly, walking past the members sitting in the rows and greeting each with an enthusiastic handshake. It was all a little too suspicious.

Hermione studied Kingsley, his too big smile and his cheery attitude were something new. The last time she’d seen or heard from him he looked as exasperated by this law as her and her friends. Was he putting this on for the purposes of the Wizengamot? Was he trying to make light of it all? The thoughts raced in her mind as Kingsley finally finished shaking hands and walked to the center of the circle. 

“Hello at last, and welcome!” Kingsley said loudly, not bothering with a Sonorous charm. Wimberly Wilmont took this as her cue to step back and she stood by the officials instead. “As you all know, it is my duty as Minister of Magic to show my utmost support for this valiant effort by all to help restore our damaged magical lineages.” 

Hermione could feel her eyebrows knitting. This was not the response she expected from the Minister, who had made it quite clear to her that he was only supporting this law because his hands were tied by the Wizengamot. Whatever that meant…

Kingsley’s attitude tonight was suspiciously too cheery as he continued, “we owe it to our society to promote your wonderful magical abilities into the future, as the Wizengamot surely has made me realize!” 

“They are truly dedicated to helping solve the Wizarding World’s greatest dilemmas and needs and for that we thank them graciously,” he said, turning toward the Wizengamot members behind him. He held his hands up and started clapping, the audience feeling compelled to follow. 

“This law, while presented as a sensible solution by the Wizengamot, has also gone through critical analysis by these accredited Ministry members,” he gestured to the officials behind him. “They have worked painstakingly hard to collect and analyze data, to accommodate all the legal ramifications and hidden strings. Please, let’s give them a round of applause too!” he began clapping again. And again, it was too enthusiastic for Kingsley, Hermione was realizing. 

The crowd clapped along rather reluctantly. Hermione stared, noticing how his voice was carrying much faster, his normal soothing tone absent. The more she watched, the more different Kingsley appeared. His mannerisms were most notably off; Kingsley was always fluid, his movements graceful and calculated like that of the practiced auror he was. 

Yet tonight, everything he did had a bit of tension to it that, if she hadn’t known Kingsley for as long as she had, she would not have noticed. While she would have normally attributed it to the anxiety of the unknown consequences of this dreadful ceremony, hadn’t he just said how great this all was? Wasn’t he acting like this whole thing was a brilliant idea when, previously, she knew he’d been upset with it? It didn’t make any sense.

It was almost as if he were not himself, almost as if…. No! She thought suddenly, her eyes widening. It couldn’t be… polyjuice potion, could it?! The Imperius?! 

Ginny tapped her elbow then, whispering, “What the bloody hell is wrong with him?” Hermione had gone white. They exchanged a serious look of concern. “That is not the Kingsley Shacklebolt we know and love.”

“No,” Hermione whispered back slowly, almost unable to speak, “I-I don’t think it is.” Hermione went to turn to look at Harry and Ron, hoping they noticed as well. But when she peered over to them something more urgent caught her attention. 

Witches and wizards in gold robes had now appeared, almost out of thin air, around the perimeter of the room. They had their hands behind their backs, standing firm like soldiers. And it appeared as if they were guarding the crowd. 

Hermione poked Ginny in the side and pointed inconspicuously. Ginny surveyed the room and then all at once, her eyes widened and her frown deepened when she noticed the army that had surrounded them. 

“What the hell…” she whispered furiously. 

“Either they expect something bad or they’re here to ensure we comply,” she whispered quickly and so quietly that Ginny practically leaned toward her to hear. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’re aurors but we both know that’s wrong. Harry would have known. What do we do?” Ginny asked then, looking ready to go after the gold clad wizards and witches.

“Nothing right now,” Hermione insisted, despite her desire to go after them as well. “We don’t want to cause a scene. If someone is impersonating him, the last thing we should do is ambush a criminal in front of all these people. Or in front of those fake aurors or whoever they are…” she glanced at them trying to discern any weaknesses. “We don’t know who they are or who they work for.”

Ginny sighed and turned back to the front. “This whole thing is so irritating.” 

“We’ve got to relax,” Hermione said, grabbing Ginny’s hand and giving it a squeeze. 

Her mind began racing with thoughts, too quick for her to make sense of right now. She wanted so badly to lock herself up in her office, write out all the details and connect the dots, find a solution of some kind. Yet, the timing was anything but ideal. How was she supposed to care about getting married when there may be so much worse ahead? 

She shook her head as she realized the not-so-Kingsley Kingsley was still speaking and she was actually minutes away from her inevitable future. “Additional thanks must be extended to our sponsors of this event, without which the Joining Ceremony could not look this stunning.” 

“Their support and generosity in monetary donations has afforded us the luxury of this ballroom, its food and its amenities, not to mention the stunning silver rings for you and your spouses,” Kingsley gestured rather obnoxiously to the velvet box, open on the table opposite the row of Wizengamot and Ministry officials. 

While he hadn’t known about the rings per say, Draco had been waiting for the moment when the Minister would mention his contributions. He held his breath but kept his face neutral, anticipating the reaction of the crowd. 

“Thanks are extended to the representatives of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes Incorporated, ZW Sales, The Daily Prophet Business Incorporated, The World Quidditch Organization, and Malfoy Enterprise,” his hands came together in booming claps as a wave of whispers opened up over the crowd. While the rest of the businesses didn’t seem out of place, the mention of ZW Sales, Blaise Zabini’s company, and Malfoy Enterprise obviously sparked some concern. 

Witches and wizards shot sideways looks at the small group of Slytherins that stood together. Draco and Blaise looked to one another. Blaise rolling his eyes at the crowd’s dramatics. The sound of two or three cameras went off, aimed in their direction. The pressure of the whole Ceremony was starting to make everyone go crazy and Draco tried to convince himself that that’s all this was. 

As a sign of courtesy, Draco decided to wave a hand at the crowd. It was more towards the Minister than anyone in particular and the eyes of the crowd seemed to dart away. Several more camera snaps quickly went off and he sighed, wishing they’d just get on with it. 

Kingsley continued over the remaining noise. “And of course, I must thank the witches and wizards who gave not only their support, but their time and skills, in helping make this Ceremony a reality,” Kingsley went on, “Let us applaud Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ernie Macmillan, Padma Patil, Theodore Nott, and Luna Lovegood for their brave sacrifice.” 

Mumbles and whispers mixed with flashes and clicks of cameras carrying through the crowd. The individuals in the room had been in the dark about any involvement on their part, except that they would be the ones getting the law applied to their lives. It was a bit of a shock to hear that several of their friends and classmates had provided the skills necessary for the law to work. 

As Hermione inspected the reactions of the people around her, she wasn’t met with anger. If anything, it was curiosity; curiosity as to just how people would be paired. She tried to keep her own face neutral for the sake of all the photos. 

Ron had been staring at Kingsley with his arms across his chest and a puzzled look on his face that was getting more severe by the minute. He had already scrutinized Malfoy and Zabini, wondering if they had any more input than was necessary as donors. But Kingsley’s words directed at him and all that helped got under his skin even more. 

He leaned towards Harry, “Brave sacrifice aye? I guess they’re choosing to forget the part where this was forced on us…” Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement.

It was then that Harry noticed movement over Ron’s shoulder. He squinted into the shadows, the lights having dimmed to put the attention to the circle where Kingsley was still talking about their “brave sacrifices”. 

Harry could just see a few golden robed witches and wizards looking like guards at the patio doors. As he scanned over towards the opposite side of the room, he noticed several more lingering at the staircase. 

“We’re being watched,” he whispered to Ron.

When Ron followed Harry’s gaze, his hand balled into fist. “Are they bloody joking?” 

“They aren’t any of my aurors that’s for sure,” Harry said with bitterness. At that Ron began searching the crowd for Hermione. He wondered if she had noticed too. This had red flags all over it. 

When he caught sight of her across the crowd, standing next to Ginny, it was the first time he saw her tonight. He blinked, forgetting just how beautiful she was. Her dress was a nice color on her creamy skin. But lingering on her looks didn’t last. She had been glancing in their direction this whole time, trying to get his or Harry’s attention and one of them had finally looked.

When they locked eyes, the suspicion in hers was well hidden to most, but he knew her too well. He knew she must have already discovered the guards and possibly more. The stiffness in her jaw wasn’t just from the nerves.

Worried and without thinking, Ron took a step towards her. Hermione’s eyes widened then and he paused. They couldn’t risk anything, not now. She mouthed the word later to him and he nodded in understanding. He took a step back towards Harry, who had watched the whole thing. Ron shifted on his feet, making it seem like he couldn’t stand still out of nervousness instead. With a deep breath, he turned back to Kingsley.

“The work these witches and wizards have done has helped create our unbiased selector, the Goblet of Unity!” he waved his wand over the marble stand then and in a swirl of purple sparks, the chalice appeared. The moment they had all been waiting for. 

If the crowd had been whispering before, it was now twice as loud and filled with twice as much noise from the reporters. People uttered their opinions of the object to their friends in a wave of rushing voices and confusion. Reporters were rushing to jot down anything they could hear or see. 

It was the first time Hermione had seen all the charms and spells come together and she felt a wave of nausea come over her at the sudden appearance of the Goblet. It sparkled and shone like liquid silver in the dim light. It made everything that much more real. 

Kingsley cleared his throat, loud enough to hush the rampant noise down to a gentle rumble that he could talk over. People around them continued to whisper.

“The Goblet of Unity is a special magical object, much like the famed Goblet of Fire many of you already know about. It is unbiased, having been placed under rigorous tests to ensure its fairness by the very witches and wizards previously mentioned.”

“Yes, it does take bloodlines into consideration but,” Kingsley rushed through this as obvious gasps from the crowd could not be helped, “the majority of its choosing capabilities come from compatibility charms, potions, enchantments, and spells. The expertise of each individual that worked on the Goblet in such areas was the reason for their choosing and I daresay, we shall finally get to see their hard work pay off!” 

The final words felt icy as they left Kingsley’s lips despite his grin, putting a damper on any remaining chatter. The crowd’s attention had turned and all eyes settled on the Goblet of Unity. The chalice was large, like the Goblet of Fire had been, and you could just make out the beautiful silver etchings that ran up and down the sides. The etchings appeared like vines, wrapping around and around, almost choking the cup. It was an eerie presence in front of the now somber crowd. 

“Now,” Kingsley’s voice felt harsher even though he was still smiling, “let us get this Ceremony underway! Ms. Wilmont, if you please,” as Wimberly Wilmont resurfaced in front of the crowd, everything seemed to still. A silence was building out of uneasiness and anxiety. 

Her smile was big and she held a long cherry wand delicately in her hand. She addressed the witches and wizards standing in front of her. “Your names have already been submitted. The Goblet will choose based on the best compatible match it sees fit! And with that… let the Choosing begin!” she said simply.

She tapped her wand against the Goblet twice and the crowd held their breaths, waiting. Purple flames shot from the cup, swirling two feet up in a rush of heat and magic. A single piece of parchment shot out from the flames, unburnt as it began to flutter down to Wimberly Wilmont’s open hand. 

Hermione felt a wave of nostalgia as she looked around at all the members of the different houses gathered outside the circle. It was almost as if they were back at Hogwarts. Except tonight they were no longer just kids playing at a wizard’s game. There would be no grand prize or tasks, she thought then, as the worry crept back to her. They were adults and they were playing with their lives.

Wimberly Wilmont caught the piece of parchment then and the crowd seemed to suck in air as one. “Mr. Harry Potter and…” she began. 

Hermione’s eyes grew wide. It was obvious Harry would be the first chosen. Why wouldn’t he? The crowd was still holding their breaths, wondering and waiting. 

Harry swallowed hard, feeling his palms sweating. Ginny stared stiff and tense, as if blinking would cause the wrong person’s name to follow. 

“Ms. Ginevra W-“ 

The rest of her voice was drowned out as cheering broke over the crowd. Applause was heard mixed with sighs of relief. Hermione felt like crying. She turned to her best friend, whose beautiful face streamed with tears. 

“Hermione, oh thank Merlin!” Ginny managed, jumping into Hermione’s arms for a hug. Hermione could feel the tension release through the girl’s shoulders.

“I’m so happy for you Ginny,” Hermione said and she truly meant it. Ginny gave Luna a squeeze before searching for her groom. Hermione smiled for the first time in ages as she watched Ginny’s eyes light up as she caught sight of Harry grinning back at her. In that moment, it was as if nothing else mattered. 

Hermione and Luna watched as Ginny ran over to Harry, waiting with open arms and eyes glistening. Hermione had never seen anyone embrace so fiercely and the crowd seemed to suck in their happiness. It gave them a spot of hope that the night wasn’t going to be as tragic as they believed. But this was only the beginning. 

When the two finally let go, Ginny and Harry stood smiling at each other in disbelief, Ron beside them. He gave Harry an encouraging pat on the back and a knowing smile before embracing his sister. Ginny hugged him tightly and then let go to grab hands with Harry. 

“Wonderful!” Wimberly Wilmont spoke, her Sonorous charm echoing over the crowd. “If you two would please come to the table to receive your rings you’ll be all set!” 

Ginny looked to Harry, somewhat concerned, but he nudged her on. They didn’t let go of each other’s hands the entire walk up to the table. Kingsley was standing beside it and Hermione watched as Harry, and then Ginny, shook his hand in congratulations. 

If Harry hadn’t been so awestruck by the happiness of his bride, Hermione would have guessed he would have tried to talk to Kingsley. See if he could get anything out of him that would give them any clues of what was going on. That’s what she would have done. 

But she knew Harry wasn’t thinking of anything but Ginny. She watched as he turned straight towards the case of rings. His hand shook out of sheer excitement as he took the first one in the row and slid it on her finger. Ginny practically shoved the ring onto his so she could jump to kiss him. Hermione couldn’t help but smile.

And it seemed the crowd was just as mesmerized. No one seemed to be paying the Goblet much attention as another flash of purple flames licked towards the ceiling. It wasn’t until the rush of magic crackled and sparked that suddenly everyone’s attention was brought back, the nerves engulfing the room once again.

Hermione’s head whipped around. It chose Harry first, of course. Ron or I has got to be next then… Merlin please let it be Ron, she thought to herself as Luna stepped to stand beside her. She reached over and gave Hermione’s hand a squeeze.

Both girls turned to watch another piece of parchment shoot out, fluttering slowly down to meet Wimberly Wilmont’s hand once again. “Mr. Ronald Weasley and…”

Hermione knew very well that, as a muggleborn, any pureblood wizard could be her new spouse. But what would she do if it actually were Ron? Would they find some level of happiness buried in the past? Could they make a relationship work after all?

Hermione’s mind felt flooded with thoughts once again, this time full of images of herself, hand in hand with Ron. She pictured them taking walks and hugging red-haired children and visiting the Burrow and growing old. It would be okay, wouldn’t it? It was something she had dreamed of, once upon a time... 

Yet as she stared at the flames she couldn’t get a smile to form. She thought of her job at the Ministry and sitting at Quidditch pitch after Quidditch pitch. She thought of their arguments over fire whiskey and starting a family. Wimberly’s voice broke her thoughts, “Ms. Daphne Greengrass.” 

It was as if the crowd had been frozen over. No one spoke for what felt like minutes disbelieving the name they heard leave Wimberly’s lips. Hermione blinked before turning to look at Ron, whose jaw was slack and open. Neville and George looked at each other, trying to figure out what to do. George gave his brother a gentle shove in the back to get him moving and at that, Ron took a few steps up towards the front. 

Several people in the crowd around him eyed Hermione as if waiting to see a tearful response. Instead, she gave Ron an encouraging smile when he passed her and looked around for Daphne. 

Hermione remembered the Greengrass sisters as being quite beautiful with dark hair and pale faces of high cheekbones. Daphne had been friends with Pansy but she never really did partake in any of Pansy’s lame bullying attempts, so that was something. Her family had fled during the war and she hadn’t been back to Hogwarts for their seventh year. Hiding in the French countryside, it was rumored they both finished schooling at Beauxbatons. 

But that still didn’t mean Daphne would go with Ron willingly. She hadn’t seen either girl at any point in the night and it was obvious she wasn’t the only curious one. People all around the crowd searched and whispers began to fill the air once again.

Finally Daphne stepped forward; she had been standing with Pansy and Blaise but Pansy’s large dress had engulfed Daphne’s tiny figure in the shadows. She walked towards the front circle much like a new fawn, tentative and shaking. Her light blue dress was reminiscent of the Beauxbatons robes and it looked soft and comforting the way it draped her shoulders. 

Pansy looked smug as she watched her friend walk up to Ron Weasley. She leaned towards Blaise, her lips flying. When Daphne finally reached him, she didn’t give any inclination that she was happy nor upset about the match.

It was clear her indifference confused Ron, who at first went to put his arm out for her to take. But halfway through doing so he decided better and gestured towards the rings instead. Daphne, who appeared to hide the slightest of smiles at this, obliged and the two silently shook Kingsley’s hand. 

It was curious that the goblet had picked them, two purebloods, to be linked, but it didn’t seem like anyone in the Wizengamot paid this any notice. They all were clapping along politely as everyone else in the crowd did. Maybe just breaking up the gang of Slytherins was enough for those old bastards, Hermione thought.

Yet the whispers hadn’t stopped. The crowd teemed with the thoughts of many and  
Hermione was starting to pick up on some:

How exactly does this Goblet work anyway? 

What is this, the Weasleys and Greengrasses are both purebloods! 

This doesn’t solve anything! 

I thought purebloods are supposed to be paired with muggleborns… 

Hermione’s mind reeled as the whispers swarmed in. The pureblood comment was interesting, to say the least. She didn’t recall any of them working on a charm or spell that actually dealt with blood purity. Her thoughts were changed however, when she caught the last whisper… 

Do you think he’s scared of her? Or is she scared of him?

Hermione hung particularly to this last one as it made her the most nervous. 

“Lovely!” Wimberly Wilmont sang then, attempting to cut off the noise. She was gesturing towards the rings as the goblet’s flame began to swirl and hiss again. 

It was then that Hermione didn’t have any more thoughts. They all seemed to stop midstream as the worry came tumbling back. While the idea of being betrothed to Ron hadn’t thrilled her, she was quickly realizing that her other options were quite limited and she was most certainly next. 

The goblet’s purple flames edged up in a crack that sounded much like an old whip and the piece of parchment that came down was smoking on the edges. Luna squeezed Hermione’s hand quickly as Wimberly’s voice spoke out in front of the crowd, “Ah, Ms. Hermione Granger and…” 

Everyone seemed to forget their whispers and comments. The anticipation flooded the floor, surrounding everything in sight. Even though the match of Ron Weasley and Daphne Greengrass had sparked a nerve, the match of the first muggle-born was what was on everyone’s mind. Even better yet, it was that of Hermione Granger, the last of the Golden Trio. 

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. The crowd around her seemed to disappear. She stared into the purple flames, as she heard Wimberly utter the words, “Mr. Draco Malfoy.” 

And with that, all the color drained from her cheeks.


	9. The Joining Ceremony, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco react to their pairing with a little fire and flare, the gang questions the stupid Ceremony, and Theo gets his pair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are too kind! I got so many positive reviews on the last chapter, I couldn't hold out until Wednesday to update. So, here you are, I hope you enjoy the next part of the Joining Ceremony! May the magic be ever in your favor ;)

Draco Malfoy stood still with his hands in his pockets. His face was drawn and unreadable, his eyes a steel gray. They bore into a place just over the head of Wimberly Wilmont and onto the blank stone wall, his mind reeling. 

He stared without blinking despite the fact the crowd around him had suddenly broken out much louder than any of their previous interruptions. It was as if he hadn’t heard her, standing there unmoving. But she had said his name. She had said it loud and clear. 

Theo nudged him with his elbow and Draco was shaken from his stupor. But he still couldn’t move, not yet. A witch and wizard in golden robes nearby eyed Draco viciously, looking antsy with his inaction. He glanced at the floor as the overwhelming worry flooded his senses. 

Hermione Granger. The Hermione Granger, of the Golden Trio. He gulped. Hermione Granger was just chosen as my wife… Theo nudged him again. He blinked, coming to his senses.

Slowly he began to walk forward, keeping his face as unreadable as possible. Despite that he knew he had worked hard to repair his life after the war, there were still plenty here who were doubtful. He couldn’t let them think he was about to start an uproar. And he couldn’t let them decide ahead of time that he was still a prejudiced prat. Which, he really believed he wasn’t anymore. 

Granger had caught a glimpse of his changed personality, however brief, in the past few weeks when they’d met at the Ministry and in town. Would that be enough for this marriage to work? Would that be enough for her to trust him? The thoughts wouldn’t stop as he kept walking. How would that ever be enough?

When he looked up to the Goblet, he saw that Granger had managed to make her way up front already. The purple of the flames made her skin look gray and she wasn’t smiling. She had her arms crossed and Draco wondered if she was nervous. If she was, she wasn’t showing it. Her back was straight, she stood tall and proud.

People whispered exchanging nasty glances as he walked passed. Pansy smirked bitterly and Crabbe tried to hide a laugh. The Patil twins avoided his gaze as he walked by them while several Ravenclaws a year younger stared, mesmerized.

As he continued through the crowd, the words death eater and dangerous and worried and muggleborn made their way through the whispers. 

They’ve always hated each other, but they’re somehow compatible?

He kept his chin up against it all. It really wasn’t a bad match, the more he thought about it, but the overwhelming shakiness of the past lingered with everyone’s words.

Think she’s scared of him? I would be…

Once a death eater, always a death eater.

Maybe Granger’s always been a masochist…

He kept walking. While he was used to the backlash and rude remarks, Hermione Granger surely wasn’t. Their pairing would be tough on her and he actually felt kind of bad about it. He had to keep stoic and poised, for her sake at least. Draco took a deep breath and put on his best smile. What a day to be brave. 

He stepped into the vacant spot on Hermione’s right side and nearly startled her. She had been staring at Ginny, who looked utterly concerned. When Hermione turned to look at him, his smile threw her. She eyed him critically before realizing he was directing her attention to the cameras. She looked away annoyed but forced her own mouth to curve up. The cameras clicked away. 

If Draco hadn’t known their past, known of the insults and the blood statuses, the general history of utter dislike and the war for Merlin’s sake, he would have guessed she was just being indifferent or particularly shy. But he knew better. Of course he knew better. And he knew she knew too. 

Draco glanced to where Ron and Daphne had joined Harry and Ginny at the tables. Daphne was in much the same boat as himself, although her reputation hadn’t been smeared quite so brutally in the war. She sat with her shoulders slumped not talking to anyone. 

Harry and Ron had their heads together, Ron practically out of his seat trying to spot Draco. Ginny looked wide-eyed, still staring at Hermione, a hand over her mouth. 

The sound of Wimberly’s voice shouting, “Exciting, exciting!” brought him back. She was smiling that giant grin next to them and it flashed in an ugly way against the purple flames. Several cameras went off again, snapping photo after photo of the newest, most interesting pairing yet. 

Draco leaned to whisper to her, but Hermione eyed him fiercely, a look he hadn’t been expecting. He took her hint and closed his mouth abruptly. Instead he offered his arm, the respectful thing to do in the situation and all he could think of.

When she stared confused, he leaned towards her whispering, “I’m only being cordial Granger, take my arm before those guards over there make you.” 

… 

Hermione’s mouth dropped open slightly. He had noticed the gold cloaked witches and wizards around the room too? She blinked at him before mechanically placing her arm in his. She felt Malfoy walk her away from the Goblet and suddenly Kingsley was in front of them, thrusting a large hand into hers with too much enthusiasm. 

“Wonderful! Congratulations, you might be the perfect lady to tame the beast after all!” he said with a laugh as he shook Hermione’s hand with vigor. 

She hardly had time to comprehend, everything was moving so quickly. Kingsley snatched up Draco’s arm too. “Ah, mighty well placed my man. You watch it now, she is not one to reckon with,” he said rather accusatively. 

“Right you are, Minister,” Draco replied sincerely, ignoring the insult Kingsley had said about him in his comment to Hermione. “While I already know well of Miss Granger’s brilliance, I’ll be sure to remember.” 

Hermione would have been interested in Malfoy’s compliment, but when she finally found her voice it was the fakeness of Kingsley’s show making her sick that bothered her more. 

“Minister, I must insist, we need to talk, this is-“ she started, but they were suddenly pushed away. Two golden robed wizards had moved the pair back from the Minister quite quickly, directing them to the table instead. The two guards followed close behind them, making sure they didn’t think to turn around. 

“So sorry, can’t talk! Congrats again,” Kingsley said, not bothering to look back at them. His attention instead turned back to Wimberly and the Goblet, now firing off another round of names. 

“Mr. George Weasley and Miss Angelina Johnson,” were next and Hermione at least felt some relief in that pairing. But her anger was still billowing, if not even more so than before. How could Kingsley just brush her off like that!

Draco led them to the table of rings and she let go of his arm and crossed her own instead. She couldn’t believe the audacity of those fake aurors and she couldn’t believe for one more second that he was the real Kingsley Shacklebolt. 

Draco noticed the change in her immediately. “You’ve got to get better at hiding your emotions Granger,” he whispered under his breath, his mouth still smiling, “this isn’t the first time a Minister has been faking it, but it certainly isn’t the place to bring it up.”

At that Hermione perked up. Did Malfoy know something more than she did? He wasn’t behind this, was he? No, she conceded, that was ridiculous. So ridiculous she felt bad for thinking it. But she was desperate to find out, so maybe this pairing wasn’t for nothing. 

She turned back to Malfoy, who was pretending to look over the box of rings interestedly. She huffed but he gave a nod behind her, still looking. Two guards were still watching them. She sighed, turning to the table and trying to relax. 

McGonagall would tell her not to act up now. McGonagall would tell her to keep her head. And McGonagall would want to hear about all this, no doubt. It was a wonder she wasn’t invited. She would have to get in touch with the witch as soon as possible. 

Turning her attention to the box of rings, she saw the spots on the velvet where Ron, Daphne, Harry, and Ginny had already taken theirs. Looking at the exposed velvet, the gleaming silver of rows and rows of wedding bands appeared eerie. 

She thought about what Ernie told them about the rings. Would anything happen when the rings actually got on their fingers? Or was it just some hidden magic, used by the Ministry to track the marriage? And how would it even do that anyway? It was unnerving that they kept that part a secret.

She didn’t know if Malfoy knew about the rings or not. She watched him snag two from the center, despite the fact the others had taken from the first row. She rolled her eyes at him.

“Definitely nothing like any of the Malfoy jewelry I could give you, but it’ll have to do for now,” he said as he looked at them closely. A small smirk came to his lips as Hermione frowned, unsure if he were kidding. 

“Cheer up Mrs. Malfoy,” he said as he took her shaking hand, “I promise you’ll get used to my kindness.” 

His touch steadied her, much to her annoyance. He slid the ring down her finger easily and it magically resized itself as it went. She pulled her hand back and stared at it.

…

Draco watched as she looked at the ring on her finger. She was still trying to hide her nerves, whether from him or from the whole crowd, and he didn’t blame her. Being paired with an ex-death eater was not high on most people’s wish lists tonight. Definitely not on hers. 

But Draco found himself in a different state of mind. He was unusually calm. Of all the matches he thought of, he did not expect this. Not to say he didn’t consider it. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of being paired with Granger once or twice over the last few weeks. It was the perfect little tease for the Wizengamot to pull, but he didn’t think they had it in them to do that to their Golden Girl. 

But as he watched her calculated movements inspecting the ring now dwelling on her finger, he realized they could possibly make this work. As long as they worked hard at it. As long as her stubbornness didn’t get in the way. Or his pride. 

There was potential here in this pairing, or at least, he thought there was. And potential was a valuable trait to Malfoys. He watched her still, wondering what was going through her mind.

…

Hearing Draco Malfoy address her with his last name sent shivers down Hermione’s spine. She was going to have to get used to that for sure, because Merlin knew she still didn’t believe it. When she looked at him, she saw him watching her. He was calm and collected, like this whole Ceremony and their pairing was no big deal at all. She was both surprised and irritated. 

He had mentioned in the elevator, what felt like ages ago, that time had made fools of them all. He said that he had taken the time to change. Should she believe him or was there still some of the old Malfoy, lingering deep down? 

The other ring was still in his hand when she looked at him again, but his face was not scowling like the old Malfoy would have or shooting insults at her. No, he was smirking and it was a strange sight. 

What did he think of this pairing anyway and was there actually a chance this could work? Was he really going to go through with this, no fussing? Was she going to be able to go through with this? The thoughts flooded her mind and she really wished she had answers.

“Hello? This is where you place the ring on my finger in return,” Draco said, much to her annoyance. She rolled her eyes at his remark instead which only made him smirk all the more. 

“Gimme that,” she said, grabbing for the silver ring he held. When he put his hand out she held it and began to slide the ring down his finger. When the ring reached its new home, a jolt of magic rushed through her veins.

She instantly let go as Draco pulled his own hand away, his eyes wide. The feeling must have gone through him as well, she thought, as she watched him staring at his hands.

It was unlike anything she’d ever felt. It was like her blood was on fire, surging with a new kind of magic; a quick, energetic magic that flitted its way down to her toes and bounced to her shoulder blades as it continued to course through her.

The two stared at each other for several minutes before either of them could speak. The other pairs didn’t seem to react this way, but had she really watched them? 

“What… what was that?” Hermione asked, cautiously. 

“I-I don’t know,” was all Draco could think. “Are these…” he stared at the ring on his finger, struggling to find the words.

“Enchanted? Yes, but I’m not entirely sure how and...” Hermione examined her own hand, mesmerized. It was like the metal gave off a slight glow and she could still feel the extra magic lingering inside her as it faded.

Hermione didn’t have time to dwell on the rings however, as she noticed George and Angelina coming their way. “Come on,” she said, taking his arm without hesitation this time. Malfoy blinked, still looking at his hands. She led them over to the table Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Daphne were seated at. 

When they arrived, Ginny was already up and out of her seat. “Oh Hermione!” she said, embracing the woman in front of her so tightly Hermione practically couldn’t breathe. 

Hermione dropped Malfoy’s arm quickly and he almost stumbled backward. When he turned to the group, he had regained his composure.

“Malfoy,” Harry said with a nod. Ron’s eyes squinted in his direction. 

“Potter, Weasley,” Malfoy said calmly. “I would say congratulations are in order, but the word seems strange when considering the pretenses.” 

“Easy Malfoy,” Ron said under his breath, as he watched Malfoy pull out the chair next to Ginny’s for his new wife. Daphne smiled at Draco, pretending not to hear her new husband or catch his wandering eyes. She waved genuinely.

Hermione felt a bit of magic flare in her hands just then. She looked at them confused for a second and glanced at Draco. He was still standing, his hands gripping the back of her chair a little too firmly, but he wore a bored expression as he looked at Ron. She decided to ignore it.

“Come on Ron, he’s just being… nice,” Ginny said, surprising herself with her own words. 

“When has Malfoy ever been nice, Gin?” Ron asked skeptically, looking around the table. Daphne stifled a laugh and Ron smiled in spite of himself. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s been years Ron, relax. He hasn’t called me a mudblood and I haven’t slapped him.”

“Yet,” Ginny said under her breath but they all heard it. It was Harry’s turn to stifle a laugh.

“I think we’re safe,” Hermione stated firmly, rubbing her temples. The magic in her hands had disappeared. 

Ron looked around embarrassed as he took his seat. Malfoy smirked at her again, but when she really did look like she was going to hit him he stopped.

“She has a point, although I can’t say ‘nice’ has ever been a word applied to me and I’m trying to keep it that way,” Draco replied, glaring at Ginny. She gave him a fake smile. 

“Okay, let’s all just sit down, this night’s stressful enough already,” it was Harry, always trying to keep the peace.

Malfoy shrugged and pulled the chair out beside Hermione. “Anyway, excellent game against France last week, Weasley. You really have improved those left side blocks, finally. Merlin knows you need them against the French, those chasers are relentless.” 

Ron’s irritation began to fade as he processed the compliment. “Er, thanks. I have- thanks.” He couldn’t seem to come up with anything more to say. Daphne just smiled.

Hermione shook her head at it all. “Harry, did you notice Kingsley?” she turned and leaned in with a hushed tone. 

“Did I notice he’s gone completely and totally mental? Yes,” Harry offered.

“Oh he’s totally bonkers,” said Ginny, taking a second to look around the room again. The gold robed guards were still hanging about. 

Ron glanced at Malfoy once more before turning to Harry and Ginny. “No doubt about that, man’s never been this hyped for anything in his life.”

“Well, that’s because that’s not Kingsley. It can’t be. Looks a bit like polyjuice if you ask me,” Hermione said.

Harry recalled their bouts with the potion previously and his eyes grew wide, “I mean, it makes sense.”

Ginny nodded. Daphne looked very interested in the situation and kept glancing over at the Minister, unsure. Draco sat by, listening intently. Leave it to his new wife to already be coming up with plausible answers to all the night’s curiosities. 

Ron’s eyebrows were knitted together. “Yeah, but who would it be then, what’s the point in pretending to be the Minister now?” he quickly glanced at Malfoy, as if they shouldn’t be talking about such things in his presence. 

“Well that’s just it, isn’t it?” Hermione carried on quickly, not bothering to care who at the table heard her, “My guess is the real Kingsley was getting too close to finding out something or to stopping this whole thing. I don’t believe the Wizengamot is truly all to blame. And whoever is really behind it all is not happy.”

Harry brought his hand to his chin and rubbed at his stubble. Daphne was fingering her empty glass nervously. Malfoy leaned back on his chair, his features twisted in contemplation. It was Ginny who eyed her doubtfully. 

“Hermione, are you sure? I mean, I know he’s acting weird but it’s just Kingsley. Maybe we’re overthinking this…” 

“I know. Considering things separately it’s not much to go off of, but all together,” Hermione explained, “the muggleborn disappearances, the werewolves. This archaic Marriage Law that has full Wizengamot support? And there’s the fake aurors and someone impersonating the very reluctant Minister… it’s starting to add up. We’ve got to tell McGonagall as soon as we-“ Hermione was saying but her quiet voice was cut off as another pairing was made. 

“Mr. Theodore Nott and…” Wimberly seemed to hesitate again. Malfoy perked up, searching the crowd for any sign of Theo. He was still over near Pansy and Crabbe, looking smug. 

Typical, Draco thought with a laugh that made Hermione turn. She eyed him curiously but instead of saying anything he merely gestured for her to keep listening. 

Wimberly blinked several times at the piece of parchment. People were looking around suspiciously. Whispers began to rumble over the crowd again as people glanced at Theo and considered his possible partner. 

Harry and Ron exchanged curious looks. “What’s going on?” Ron asked. 

Wimberly looked back at the members sitting behind her with a raised eyebrow. Kingsley looked suddenly panicked. The Ministry officials just gestured to her to continue, not really comprehending her hesitation. “And… Mr. Cormac Mclaggen.”


	10. The Joining Ceremony, Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone takes in the first same sex pairing and Draco Malfoy is actually realizing what it will be like to be married to Hermione Granger. Maybe a good ole threat by the Chosen One and our Weasley King is in order...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a seriously large thank you goes out to all the reads and comments! It literally makes my day to read them :)  
> On another note, I'm so sorry loves I have not posted, my job started back up and damn I'm beat.  
> So here is an early update for being such patient readers!  
> Enjoy!

There was a second’s pause before the comments and whispers were flying. 

Did you know the goblet would choose same sex couples?

How is a pairing like that going to help the magical bloodlines rejuvenate? 

Can you believe Mclaggen’s off the market? 

Nott and Mclaggen? Seriously?

What do you think the Wizengamot will say? 

Theo was waltzing up to the goblet like he had just won the lottery. His smirk never left him and his hands resided in the pockets of his nicely fitting dress robes. They looked more like a suit than robes. When he got to the goblet he turned and waited for Cormac to make his way to the front. 

It was no secret that Cormac had been after several dozen Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girls in his years at Hogwarts, Hermione included. She wondered if he’d made such a show of his pursuits then because he hadn’t come to terms with who he was. 

She knew now that they were older he wasn’t as shy about his sexuality. He was often seen with many foreign men or women on Friday nights at high end restaurants in London. Cormac said it was business, others guessed differently. All in all, Hermione hoped Theo was up for the challenge of being with Cormac, as she recalled from personal experience it wasn’t an easy task.

The Wizengamot and Ministry members looked suddenly confused as Cormac joined Theo up front. The two stood, Theo smirking and Cormac waving to various friends and people in the crowd. Cormac sported a nice deep red set of robes that went well with Theo’s black suit. The green kerchief in Theo’s pocket suddenly transfigured into red upon the snap of his fingers. Together, they looked quite stunning. 

Several of the Wizengamot were staring, jaws dropped open. Two looked angry while another three began whispering furiously gesturing to the Goblet and the boys in question. Kingsley didn’t look at all worried anymore. He merely smiled some more and clapped vigorously looking out for the two men to come over to him. 

Cormac looked excited as he made his way over towards the table of rings, Theo casually following in his wake. Malfoy watched the two, each placing their own ring on their own finger before they looked at each other as a couple for the first time. Cormac seemed to whisper something to Theo and Theo just chuckled, a small blush coming to his face. He put a hand to Cormac’s lower back and guided him to the table. Malfoy smiled. 

“So has Cormac always been playing for both sides then?” Ron asked Harry quietly as the two men walked over to their table. Harry gestured to Ron with a hand across his neck as they approached. Ginny smirked.

Theo smiled at them all. Since he had gotten to know most of them from working on the goblet, it was clear he wouldn’t be ostracized. And having Draco and Daphne there also helped. It was a right mix of Gryffindor and Slytherin, that was for sure.

Theo grabbed the seat beside Draco and Cormac said hello to his fellow Gryffindors as he sat beside his new husband. “Well, guess the kneazle’s out of the bag, aye? No hard feelings though Granger, I truly did like you in sixth year,” Cormac said sweetly and the table actually laughed for the first time that night. 

Draco looked from Cormac to his wife, interested in the exchange. Hermione seemed to blush as she smiled thinking of the memories. While Cormac had not been on the top of her list of people she’d wanted to date back in sixth year, it was at least flattering knowing his feelings were genuine.

“All those business meetings then?” Ron said to Cormac, his eyebrows raised.

Cormac shrugged and laughed. “What can I say, I was trying out all my options. One should never limit themselves to something as trifle as gender.” They laughed again.

“Congrats then Cormac, but good luck with Theo. He’s about as picky as they come,” Draco said with a laugh. 

“And be careful I don’t decide to come after your wife again Malfoy, if I can’t in fact handle Mr. Nott,” Cormac smirked, “I’m hard to forget.”

Draco felt suddenly defensive and he didn’t know where it was coming from. Daphne looked ready to laugh at him. Hermione eyed him curiously, feeling a bit of magic move under her skin again. 

Cormac turned to Daphne then and struck up a conversation. They must have been acquainted before now, as it seemed they got along well. Ron merely watched, unsure of what to make of the strange group of people now seated together at the table.

Draco turned to Hermione, who appeared to still be lost in memories of sixth year. “How come I didn’t know you and Mclaggen dated?” he asked seriously. She felt the return of the magic under her skin, but ignored it.

Hermione snorted. “’Dated’ is a strong term, but yes, he was interested in me. I took him to Slughorn’s Christmas Party. It was to annoy Ron more than anything,” she glanced at the redhead to make sure he wasn’t listening. 

“You probably never saw me with him because I was busy dodging his lips all night. We saw each other once or twice after that, but nothing came of it. Cormac is a bit… much for me.” 

Hermione looked over at Cormac then, talking very animated to Daphne, using his hands to gesture and talking loudly. He was making the whole table focus on him. Yes, definitely too much, she decided, noticing that Malfoy had followed her gaze. The magic under her skin relaxed. She eyed Malfoy with a curious look. 

Draco continued to watch Cormac talk as Hermione panned the room again, taking note of just how many golden robed witches and wizards stood around the venue. 

“Who could these guards be working for?” Hermione asked out loud, more in response to her own frustration than anything. 

“I’m not sure really,” Draco answered, “I take it they’re not any of Potter’s aurors or it wouldn’t bother you so.” 

Hermione looked at him annoyed. “Obviously they’re not.”

“Well I haven’t recognized any of them as coworkers from my death eater days, if that’s any concern,” Draco said, trying to be funny. 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “I just find it particularly unsettling that someone thinks we can be fooled into thinking the Ministry would hire out for an event such as this. And even so, what do they think, we’ll all go off on our pairings as soon as they're announced if they’re not to our liking?”

Draco took a second to decide how to respond. He liked hearing Granger speak her mind like this. The empowering way she voiced her opinions was admirable, if not a little intimidating. He used to find it irritating, funnily enough. And she hadn’t used any spells on him when they were paired. He took that as a good sign. 

Before he could say anything however, Hermione was already looking around again. She scrutinized every move of the guards and appeared to be counting the number of exits. “If I could just get away for a minute and get one of these guards alone, I could get some answers with a quick Legilimens charm and-“

“It won’t work,” Draco said, ruining her plan. Although he couldn’t help but be interested in the fact she was skilled in such an area. 

Hermione gritted her teeth. “And why not?” 

“Because someone has placed anti-magic wards on the whole place,” Draco informed her quietly. Hermione’s eyes widened. “I know because I tried to locate Theo when I arrived and the spell wouldn’t work for shit.” 

“But that can’t be right, because I used a levitation charm to carry Harry and Ginny’s drinks earlier and a spell to fix my hair in the loo and well…” she looked embarrassed at admitting this but Draco ignored it. He merely leaned a little closer to her.

“Yes well, it seems simple spells can be done, I accio-ed drinks myself but anything defensive or offensive of consequence does not work,” Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

“Look, the spell I normally use to locate certain individuals is old magic, sort of an old-school charm passed down from my mother’s family. Complex. When spells like that stop working, something bigger is at play,” Draco explained in a hushed sort of whisper. 

Hermione’s eyes grew wide as he kept talking. “So once I found Theo I gave him a heads up on the situation and we went to an empty room upstairs. Tried several jinxes and curses and… nothing. Accio, lumos, and a few other simple ones were all we managed.” 

Hermione had paled. “Now that is something to worry about,” she said, looking away. She could feel the nervousness starting to come back to her. What was this all about?

Draco felt a spark of something then, a light sort of magic similar to what he felt when putting on the rings. It quickly flitted through his body and was gone, but he looked to Hermione anyway. She was looking off to the distance, but he could tell she was forcing the worry away. He shook his head, trying to forget it.

“Yes well, it seems you know more about what’s going on than most... I don’t think this is all just a coincidence; Muggleborn disappearances and werewolves? How come I’m just hearing about these now?” he asked, more concerned than Hermione expected him to be.

She sighed, “Because the muggleborn stories have been pushed to the back pages of the Prophet or only contain incorrect information. Muggles usually find them and muck up the scene before we can get there, it’s a mess,” she finished off her champagne. 

“The werewolves are part of a case I’m working on, so that’s actually still classified. But it’s all ridiculous. I’ve been pushing my reports but nothing gets published. Rita would rather litter the front pages with made up drama about Harry or stories of what the most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes of this generation are doing.” 

Draco had to laugh. “Hey now, I was one of those eligible bachelors up until tonight and I enjoyed my many stories, thank you very much.”

“Of course Rita wrote more than one about you,” she laughed. “After the first I must have skipped the rest… on purpose,” she stated with a smile. She went to grab her glass then but it was empty.

Draco shrugged. “You did read the first though,” he eyed her playfully. “But if I’m not mistaken, your name was mentioned quite a bit when you were dating Weasley and then by itself when you ceased to be. How come no one has snatched you up before now?”

“I-...” she started, but it was just so strange. She was having a normal conversation with Draco Malfoy at this ridiculous Joining Ceremony at a table full of Gryffindors and Slytherins. And did she detect the slightest bit of flirting? Her pulse quickened. 

But this wasn’t just Draco Malfoy anymore, this was her husband. The thought almost made her laugh. “I prefer to think no one else who has tried has been to my liking.”

Draco appeared amused at this statement. “No worries, I’m up for a challenge.” She felt the blush climb her neck to her cheeks and wondered if he was serious. Maybe the flirting was a bit much…

He chuckled, but changed the subject to their original topic anyway. “I do think you are right in questioning all this though. Especially now seeing Kingsley. I think I have some resources that could prove beneficial to you, I should have been keeping up on them anyway. When we get home to the Manor tonight, I can-“ his voice was cut off as the giant purple flames of the goblet sparked loudly across the room. 

And much to Hermione’s relief. When they get home… to the Manor? she hadn’t even considered that part of their pairing. He was so casual about it like it was no big deal, but did he remember all the horrid memories she had of that dreaded place? How could she explain that her dreams were haunted by that vile drawing room and his aunt’s foul words ringing in her ears? She couldn’t make that place home no matter how hard she tried. 

Hermione shuttered and looked down at her lap to get her mind off of the nightmares. Her heart felt like it was racing and she had to take some deep breaths to try and steady it. Draco watched her instead of the goblet, distracted. His magic seemed to jump under his skin in a wave of empathy; the beating of that light, melodic magic from before accompanied it. 

He felt the urge to reach out and put his arms around her. The impulse confused him just as much, so he simply placed a hand on top of hers rather awkwardly. Confusion reached her eyes as she stared at their hands sitting on the table in front of her. Somehow it made her feel marginally better as she felt her magic course to the surface of her skin, so she left it. She was starting to think there was more to these rings than just a simple enchantment…

“Mr. Neville Longbottom and Miss Millicent Bulstrode,” Wimberly sang with a smile and several people in the audience gasped. The Ministry members clapped along with Kingsley and Wimberly as Neville made his way up towards the goblet. He was trying hard to keep it together. 

Harry turned from Neville to Ron, his eyes wide and worried. Ron gulped, unsure of what to think as he looked from Daphne to Millicent, who was slowly making her way up to the front. Her black dress floated behind her and she was looking at the ground the whole time. 

Ginny grabbed for Hermione’s hand, but when she noticed it was under Draco’s she paused. At this the newly made couple seemed to snap back to reality and pulled away from each other quickly. Ginny smirked and Hermione rolled her eyes, not looking in Draco’s direction once. 

Draco still watched her. She seemed to relax and breathe more evenly now, the anxiousness in his own body coming down too. Weird, he thought, that it affected him just as much as her. He stared down at the silver ring on his finger once more, wondering what enchantments truly were involved. 

Hermione looked up to where Neville stood; he looked more ready than she expected, much steadier than when he was walking up to the goblet. She exchanged an interested look with Ginny. Millicent approached Neville then and he gave her a smile, looking calm and collected. 

Hermione, Ron, and Harry blinked. Maybe he realized just how strong he needed to be, for her at least. Neville sure had come into his own now and it was showing even more than he probably knew. 

Millicent only looked confused as she watched her new husband put out an arm for her. She took it cautiously and they walked away, her lips pursed. Neville kept his small smile, whispering something to her to try to ease her discomfort. 

“What’s with all these pureblood pairings?” Ginny asked, turning back to the table. “Doesn’t really make sense when you think they’re trying to restore magic and all.” 

“Well, Millicent is actually a half-blood,” Draco said casually, but it was clear this was new information. Ginny cocked an eyebrow and Hermione looked at him confused. Draco only shrugged.

Theo chimed in, “her father slept around a bit during the first war as a reckless little death eater and well, one too many black cauldron bourbons and you find yourself with a muggle woman in the morning. She disappeared shortly after Millicent was born,” Theo frowned. 

“That’s tragic,” Cormac said. Theo nodded at him solemnly. 

“We sure she actually ran away from Bulstrode or was it a little more like she actually disappeared?” Harry asked, genuinely curious. Ron snorted. 

Theo narrowed his gaze in a way that suggested Harry’s comment was distasteful, but Harry just shrugged. 

“Come on Nott, Harry wasn’t the only one thinking it,” Ron said. 

“Look, Millie didn’t like telling people,” Daphne said sadly. “Only a handful of us knew.” 

Ron tried to put a hand on hers in comfort, yet they both felt awkward about it. She put her hands in her lap before he could reach her, leaving him to awkwardly hover in the middle before placing his own down too. 

“Wondrous!” Shouted Wimberly Wilmont and the crowd was forced to clap. As Hermione put her hands together and watched the new couple walk, Draco leaned over her shoulder.

“Also, you’ve been a Legilimens how long exactly?” he asked seriously as he clapped along too, remembering her comment from earlier. 

Hermione sighed. “I actually didn’t mean to let that slip,” she said, as the crowd died down. She faced him then, her face stiff. “It’s not exactly a skill you want the world knowing you have but... I picked it up right after the war, a portrait told me where to look and helped me learn.” 

“A portrait?” Draco raised an eyebrow. 

She shrugged. “Phineas Nigellus Black, if you must know. I believe he’s some great-great-great uncle of yours.” 

Draco blinked, trying to detail the connection. “Oh, right, my mother’s side of the family,” was all he could come up with as a response. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” she said as she turned to see Ginny getting up. She was headed for the bar and Hermione decided she needed to walk. She got up and pushed her chair in, but hesitated.

Draco gave her a weak smile, “You have your husband’s word.” Hermione studied him for a second. His eyes rose up slowly to look at her and something about the light in them made her believe he would keep quiet. At that she got up and followed the redhead to the back of the room. 

Draco sighed as his new wife walked away. Would the anxiety of this night ever end? He wondered. It seemed the more the ceremony progressed, the more shaky the future was becoming. He passed a hand over his eyes, trying to rub the frustrations away. 

“Already had enough Malfoy?” Ron asked with a laugh.

Harry smiled. “She’s amazing if you get over the whole stubborn to no end, going to always show you up parts.” 

Draco gave a light chuckle. “Good to know, although I figured half as much.”

“Good, you need someone to show you up,” Theo chimed in, looking at Ron and Harry then. “He’s a right git most of the time, that part didn’t seem to change since the war.”

Ron laughed. “Not surprised. We’ve known that for ages,” he shot Draco an unpleasant scowl. “Well don’t worry, even if we aren’t around to kick his arse, she sure as hell will if you do screw up! Merlin knows she let me have it on more than one occasion...” 

“You deserved it though Ron, let’s be honest,” Harry said, draining the rest of his glass. He put a hand out subconsciously forgetting that Ginny had gotten up to get a drink. Draco watched the gesture, intrigued.

“Oh, I certainly did,” Ron said ashamedly. He looked at Daphne, who was still talking to Cormac and then back to Draco. He leaned in, his voice low, “being a Quidditch star has it perks... until you realize just how much of your time it eats away. If you really want to show people you’ve changed Malfoy, or, Merlin, if you ever remotely grow feelings for her, please give her your time. She deserves that much. I fucking mean it.” 

“Is that a threat already Weasley?” Draco chided. “I intend to treat her just as well as I would my own chosen wife. It’s not my fault if she ends up screwing that up with her own stubbornness.” He laughed but soon realized the others weren’t.

Draco closed his mouth and nodded seriously for perhaps the first time in his life to a Weasley. While he preferred it be to the female one, he knew Ron was being completely honest. And for some reason, he knew he needed to take Ron’s words at full value. Ron had to have loved Hermione fiercely at one time and he realized it too late. 

It was bittersweet to see him like this, still obviously caring a great deal about her but being married to someone else. Not to mention seeing her married off to an old enemy he wasn’t sure he trusted. It was a lot to handle. Now more than ever, the mistakes of the past, everyone’s mistakes, needed to start being forgiven. 

“You have my word,” Draco said, as both Ginny and Hermione returned to the table, a silver platter of drinks floating behind them. Ron glared at Draco one last time before straightening up. He took the glass Ginny offered him graciously, avoiding looking like he was ever talking to Draco at all.

Ginny passed out the rest of the drinks to them all. Hermione grabbed two glasses of dark blue liquor and sat, handing one to Draco in the process. 

“No fire whiskey?” Draco asked, looking almost sad and much like his year 2 or 3 self being denied a prime spot on the train. Hermione gave a chuckle.

It was surreal being here with him so casually, offering him a drink when in the past they’d have already let the insults fly. How would life be, now that she was the wife of Draco Malfoy? Would they be able to make this work? She thought she just might like to see where it would lead them…

“Try something new for a change, you just might like it,” Hermione said, realizing the double meaning too late; her thoughts materialized all too easily in her words. She frowned as she went to clink his glass, diverting her eyes as she took a sip to stop her from saying anything else.

Draco gave a wicked scowl. “I am always into trying new things my dear wife.” He downed half the glass with a wink before the icy cold caught up with him. 

Hermione giggled as she watched his face pale and a scowl emerge. He hadn’t expected the freezing cold of the ice whiskey. “You sure about that?” She laughed. Draco merely sneered, swallowing several times to try to get the sting to go away. 

Before anyone could say another word, the Goblet’s flames were flaring and another piece of parchment came fluttering down. Hermione sat up straighter in her chair, feeling the effects of the alcohol beginning to ease her mind. 

“Miss Luna Lovegood and...” Wimberly paused again. People began to hush, wondering if it was another shocking death eater match. Theo was too busy laughing at Draco, who was also preoccupied by his own frozen suffering, to pay much notice as Wimberly muttered, “Miss Pansy Parkinson.”


	11. An Unexpected Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Pansy let all hell break loose? Guess you'll have to read to find out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how short this chapter is, but I feel like you won't entirely blame me. It had to be.   
> Or you might just hate it because it's another cliffhanger lol

The quiet engulfed the ballroom. No one spoke, no one dared clap as the scowling Pansy Parkinson made her slow waltz up to the front of the room. Draco and Theo were practically out of their seats trying to see what she would do. 

Expecting the worst, Draco scanned the room quickly for any sign of Lovegood, knowing that Pansy might just as well throw her under the bus in all her rage. When Draco had got her the wrong bracelet for Christmas fifth year, Pansy threw it into the fire, slapped him across the face, and then proceeded to yell at him in front of the whole common room. She had a tendency to be dramatic.

Luna, on the other hand, was nothing but normal. She practically skipped up to the front and smiled in that lofty way of hers. Her orange skirts engulfed her waist, her long blonde hair tied up in braids. She looked pretty in an odd sort of way as she stood waiting for Pansy. 

The Wizengamot and Ministry members clapped despite their confusion again but no one in the crowd joined them. There was an eerie tension building and Hermione felt the hair on her neck stand up. 

“What’s going on?” Ginny whispered to no one in particular, her eyes fixed on the goblet and Wimberly and Luna standing there beaming. Harry made a grimace at the whole of it. 

“I- I’m not sure what to think,” Hermione managed, her voice equally as low. It seemed no one wanted to be the one to really break the quiet of the room.

“Called it,” Theo said then, taking a sip. “Lovegood, that is. As for Pans, well…” he averts his eyes from Draco.

“Didn’t you like, date her?” Ron asked Draco, his grin wide and mocking. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, but back then she’d been quite satisfied with my cock, so this is news to me,” and with that everyone at the table looked at him. 

“Well, yours and several other Slytherins, one Ravenclaw, that keeper from the Banchory Bangers, that Durmstrang bloke too...” Theo listed before Draco slugged him in the shoulder. Theo smirked and rubbed his arm. 

While Draco was glad to be done with her, he hated being reminded of the many times in that relationship when infidelity struck. Which for Pansy, was any time Draco was supposedly being a prat or she felt like taking a vacation and he wasn’t with her.

“Crass,” Hermione scolded with a look of disgust at Draco before looking away. Hermione knew it was kind of stupid to get upset over the past, but it was almost as if she couldn’t help it.

Pansy always made her angry and then there was Draco’s history with her. It made the magic in her veins angry. She watched as Pansy walked up to the front, slowly slinking and eying multiple people on her way up. She was eating up the attention.

Draco held up his hands in defense while Ron put a large hand over his mouth to cover his laughter. “It’s not like I went into detail or anything-“ Draco began, saying it mostly to Hermione. She wasn’t listening. He could feel the surge of anger she was giving off.

“Oh shut it,” Theo said, “Merlin knows I’ve heard all too much detail about your sex life and I’ve never asked.” Draco scoffed, not seeing Hermione roll her eyes in his direction.

Hermione surely wasn’t ready to think about sex with Malfoy, even if they were now man and wife. 

Taking his seat, Draco turned to face the crowd and crossed his arms. He had no interest in hearing the rest of the conversation. It bugged him thinking Pansy had cheated on him with a bunch of other guys, but had she been into girls too? How could he be so foolish?

Alas, some part of him knew he had this coming, that this is what he got for being young, dumb, and having his first love a death eater’s daughter. The ring on his finger felt suddenly hot and he glanced down at it annoyed and wondering why he was getting so worked up over Pansy of all people. 

Daphne, who had a small smile on her face, couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping her lips at all of it. “What?” Ron asked her then, still laughing. 

“Oh it’s just,” she laughed, “It’s funny. Theo wasn’t wrong, Pansy sure did get around to all the lads, but it appears he didn’t have any idea about the ladies,” she mentioned and all the boys’ mouths dropped open. Draco blinked, disbelieving. That lying bitch, Draco thought to himself. 

Ron looked interested, his face reddening. Cormac could read his mind and was about to stop Ron from asking, but it was too late. “So were you um-“ he started but Daphne stopped him.

“Oh Merlin no! Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” she said quickly, hoping no one would take offense. She glanced at Theo, “but I did walk in on her once...”

Harry looked uncomfortable. Ginny watched Hermione who was trying not to appear irritated by the whole conversation. Theo and Ron were still interested, their eyebrows raised. “With who?” Theo asked eagerly, but at that moment, Pansy had finally made it to the front of the room. 

Pansy had stepped up so she was right in front of Luna now. The whole room seemed to hold their breath. Pansy was taller than Luna by quite a few inches but the heels she wore made her tower over the blonde. She looked like she was about to devour her for dinner, but Luna’s gentle smile remained. What if Pansy lost it right then and there?

Something shifted in Hermione’s periphery and she saw several golden robed witches moving about. The tension in the room felt suddenly stronger. Something felt off. 

It was Luna who spoke first. “I’ve always found you quite fascinating,” she said in her usual light voice and to that Pansy let out a howl.

“I’ve always found you quite fucking strange,” she spoke, her voice harsh, “but I guess I’ll have to get used to strange.”

Suddenly, the tension felt broken and it wasn’t just the anticipation of the pairing in front of them. The wards and spells keeping them safe broke in, a shuttering wave of magic shifting through the room. The golden robed witches and wizards had moved about the room, placing themselves almost strategically blocking exits, their wands brandished. 

Panicked voices broke out in the crowd of panic, while the rest of the golden robed witches and wizards started crowding around, keeping everyone in their places. Hermione grabbed her own wand from its holster and held it at the ready, hoping the wards breaking meant their ability to do magic was back.

Ginny grabbed Harry’s free hand and Hermione felt someone grab hold of her own. When she realized it was Draco, she almost let go but the magic in her veins twisted and she somehow felt like it would be bad if she lost him amongst the chaos.

”Will you stop acting so surprised-“ he had started to say to her as a window above them crashed open. 

A black cloud of smoke went zooming through the room before landing on the balcony overlooking the ceremony, a witch materializing out of it. Hermione felt her heart drop, the color in her left. It reminded her horribly of Bellatrix.

Someone near them gasped, another person screamed. Several windows near the witch crashed open as two, three, four new individuals appeared beside her. Her black nails grabbed the banister in front of her as she let out a disgusted scream. “How the hell did this happen!” She screamed again in utter irritation. “We had a DEAL Minister!” 

The crowd gaped. The woman didn’t have her wand out but the man next to her did, who looked equally as angry. His black hair was combed neatly and he wore an expensive looking set of robes, a small, straight mustache across his lip twitching. The woman whipped her black hair off her shoulders revealing her pointed pug face that her daughter so obviously resembled. 

“Of fucking course,” was all Pansy managed to say as she yanked Luna’s hand into her own and ran.


	12. An Unexpected Interuption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audrena Parkinson gate-crashing at a Joining Ceremony? What good could come of that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I just wanted to take a minute to say THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. I didn't imagine this fic would get nearly as much traffic as it has. Your comments truly make my day and I'm so happy you're enjoying it!!!  
> I apologize that I have been inconsistent in posting, I'm hoping to get more on track as October comes around.  
> Enjoy this lovely little bit! The plot's getting thicker, I promise we won't be at the Ceremony much longer ;)

Kingsley, or whoever was impersonating him, was clearly under duress. He had not expected Audrena Parkinson to appear out of nowhere and accuse him of bribery. And quite possibly he hadn’t expected the Goblet to choose that particular spouse for Pansy Parkinson either. 

Hermione didn’t have a chance to say anything as Malfoy pulled her hand to follow Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Daphne. Harry was leading them under the staircase, hoping it would help shield them from view. Knowing a pureblood family was ambushing the Ceremony didn’t bode well for any of the Golden Trio or their friends and spouses. 

Harry had his wand in hand as he ran, but Hermione knew it was useless. The anti-magic wards on the whole place were still there. She wondered how Mrs. Parkinson and her friends were able to get through. But as if to answer her, she watched the gold robed witches and wizards spring to action, wands drawn. They had shifted to guard all exits and were blocking any of the ceremony guests from leaving. They clearly knew her.

“This is insane!” Ginny shouted as she pulled on Harry’s robes. He nearly toppled into the birch wand of a gold wizard, who snarled angrily at them all. They backed away slowly, realizing there was nowhere to go.

Someone yelled from across the hall and Hermione whipped around, seeing several other guests being shoved away from the patio doors. Three golden witches suddenly appeared to stand in front of each of the doors. And in that moment she hadn't realized Malfoy had been holding her hand the whole time, until he let it go.

“What? Malfoy! Where are you going?” she called, as she watched him dodge Angelina and George coming their way. For a split second, her mind panicked; he was somehow involved- but the high energy magic from before jumped to her fingertips where his hand had just been, as if consoling her.

He turned back, his eyes alert. He was crouching by their now abandoned table, Theo kneeling beside him. “We have to find Pansy before this gets even more out of hand,” Draco stated, knowing the relationship between the witches was built on rocky foundation from the start. No one wanted to feel Audrena’s wrath.

Hermione clenched her fists, trying to stop the feeling of his magic in them. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she called lamely, hoping whatever plan they had was at least well strategized. Ginny stared at her, eyebrows raised. 

“Us? Please,” Draco smirked at her before he and Theo were off. She huffed, looking around again. They were in no place to do anything. It was awfully frustrating. George and Angelina joined them suddenly, looking prepared for anything. 

“Where did Pansy and Luna go?” Hermione asked the group, but Daphne and Ginny just shrugged.

“I thought I saw them run towards the bar, but I lost them somewhere around that group of Ravenclaws there,” Ron pointed over the unpaired crowd, who were now huddling together near the Goblet, unsure what to do. Ron looked back at Daphne, who had huddled with Cormac and Ginny. He appeared like he wanted to put his arm around her but Cormac had beaten him to it.

Ron turned to Harry instead. “What do we do, mate?” 

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he glanced at Ginny. She gave him a weak smile and she rubbed Daphne’s arm. “I- I’m not sure. I was going to call the Aurors but I have no way of reaching them without the floo or my Patronus,” he huffed, his eyes searching the exits and fireplaces. All the ones they floo-ed in were out in the entrance hall and every single mantle was now flanked by golden robed guards.

“Makes you think the death eaters were onto something with the whole dark mark thing,” George mentioned, but Angelina hit him. 

“Now’s not a time for jokes, that woman looks livid,” Angelina pointed to Audrena Parkinson, now seething. Her black nails dug into the railing like a harpy. Hermione eyed her, seeing the black dress that hung low on her neckline and the black hair so similar to her daughter’s. She wondered if the man next to her was Pansy’s father. 

George shrugged. “So, what is the plan, oh almighty trio?” he turned to look at Harry, Hermione, and Ron with expectation. Ron frowned.

“Let’s just-” Hermione began, seeing Harry run his hand for the third time through his hair as he started to pace. But she couldn’t finish. She was cut off by the loud and sharp voice from the balcony.

“How does this even make sense Minister? This isn’t what was supposed to happen and you know it,” Audrina Parkinson bellowed. “We agreed to mix some of the bloodlines yes but we needed it to make the bloody children! It’s the children we need dammit! And I will not have my daughter fulfilling some boy’s backwards dorm room fantasy! Ugh!” she screeched. Her cherry colored lips curled in frustration and she glared at the imposter Kingsley.

Kingsley stumbled backward as he looked up at the woman, but caught himself before he fell into the chest of rings. He straightened and stood up with a smile, the perfect actor. He cleared his throat and straightened his collar. 

“Now, now, Audrena,” he laughed, as if it was just a little misunderstanding, “Don’t you think if this upsets you that you should take it up with me privately? I mean, it seems a shame to put all these lovely magical individuals out of being paired with their future spouses. Think of the magic at state here,” he mused with a chuckle, eying her more aggressively than Hermione had ever seen Kingsley act. “Think of the Wizengamot and all they’ve sacrificed.”

The room had grown quiet, listening to the exchange. 

She stuttered, blinking at him. “Take it up with you privately? How dare you, after all I did to help you!” she yelled. She threw her hair back, looking wild. “And you talk of sacrifices like I haven’t given this my everything-”

“What the hell mother,” It was Pansy who cut her off, shouting from somewhere near the back before Kingsley could speak up. “You helped?!” 

Hermione’s eyes darted around, disappointed not to hear anymore from Audrena. When she finally located Pansy, she gulped. Draco and Theo flanked her on either side, holding her back from running up the staircase. Luna stood beside them, neither smiling nor frowning. She just kept glancing from Mrs. Parkinson to her daughter and back again. 

Pansy struggled against the boys’ hold. “Pansy,” Draco warned under his breath, “Don’t bait her, of all the people...” 

But it was loud enough for Mrs. Parkinson to hear. She screamed. “Ha! That is rich, coming from you, you sad little excuse for a death eater. You don’t deserve to carry the Malfoy name and thank Merlin she won’t have to either. At least there’s that.”

Malfoy looked livid. He started to let go of Pansy’s arm leaving Theo to hold her back. Malfoy got two steps up when Blaise came out of nowhere and yanked him back down.

“Funny, for a second there my name was all you wanted. You know, last summer, when you were begging for one last chance,” Draco threw the insult at her with disgust. His eyes flashed at the anger behind his words. Hermione could feel the jolt of quick magic under her skin. 

Pansy’s mother glared. “Oh shut up! If it wasn’t for your purity I wouldn’t have even tried. And you, you ungrateful girl,” she turned on Pansy, “How could you do this to me, after all the time I put into giving you a proper upbringing? The least you could do was marry, if not the boys on your arms, the countless others with purity to spare. What you lack, oh you could have been saved from this wretched thing and you could have kept seeing your little whore on the side,” Audrena sneered, her red lips twitched as the words left them. She eyed Pansy with utter distaste. “You never listen.”

“Fuck you!” Pansy snarled back, “I’m so sick of your purity bullshit!” 

Pansy's mother let out a howl. “Purity! Oh, you don’t even know! You are the worst excuse for a daughter, mark my words this law will hurt you. So many of you!” she addressed the crowd, who cowered as they looked at her, “And I cannot wait to sit by and watch,” she laughed aloud, the vicious sound reverberating off the high ceilings. 

Audrena turned back to Kingsley, a small smile on her lips. “Don’t think we’re done here Minister,” she spat and she turned on her heel. “You know this was not in the plan and I will make you pay. The outcome best still be reached.” 

With a wave at her entourage she materialized back into black smoke once more and was gone. The others followed. 

...

The fake Kingsley took a second to shake his head clear of Audrena Parkinson’s threats. He put his hands up to the crowd and smiled, as if trying to convey comfort but it just looked forced. He stopped when too many of the young witches and wizards eyed him distastefully.

He took the time instead to walk over to one of the golden wizards. He whispered something furiously in his ear and then went to speak with the Ministry officials and Wizengamot members. 

They all looked more than shook up, several of them still gaping at the place on the balcony where the witch and wizards had been. The gentleman on the end of the row looked much like he had no idea where he was. Kinglsey (or Kingsley’s imposter really) took special interest in him. Once Kingsley whispered to him, the man relaxed once more, almost too easily. 

The gold robed guards seemed to ease up, but many of the exits and fireplaces were still being blocked. Their wands were away except for the few witches who took to repairing the windows. The icy chill began to dissipate and several of the fireplaces roared to life. 

Wimberly Wilmont suddenly popped up out of nowhere. She had been hiding behind the pillar of white marble that held the Goblet and it had covered her quite well. Her violent red hair seemed to be drooping to the side but she took no notice. She brushed off her dress as she looked around for the Minister.

The crowd of young witches and wizards began to stir, caution hanging on every whisper and movement. Several Hufflepuffs stood up from beside the Wizengamot members; it appeared they’d run there for safety. Ernie was amongst them. 

A couple of younger men eyed the spot Pansy’s mother had just been. They were standing right under her place on the balcony and they quickly began to move to a different side of the room. Cho Chang and her friends looked around from the middle, shaken. Dean and Seamus were talking in hushed voices with the Patil twins, as they all kept glancing at Pansy and the Slytherins.

...

“Let me go. Now.” Pansy seethed at Theo, going back and forth between glaring at him and trying to step on his toes. Draco shrugged out of Blaise’s grip on his arm and went to help, but Pansy glared at him too. Theo released her instead, taking several steps out of the way before she turned on them. 

“I want to punch you both, but since you really did keep me from clawing her eyes out in front of my wife and all these people I guess I should thank you,” Pansy huffed to the boys, inspected her arms for any sign of bruising. Then she turned to Luna. “Sorry. Your in-laws are shit.” 

Luna just chuckled, playing with the ring on her finger while staring at Pansy. “It’s probably for the best we write before we visit then.” 

“I’ll say,” Pansy gave her a wide-eyed, interested look before fixing a stray lock of hair and taking Luna’s hand once more. “So, where are we sitting again?” 

Draco stared at her, not sure if he should be impressed or laugh. “That’s what you're going with? After all this?” He went to turn to Theo or Blaise for help, but came up short. Theo was looking anywhere but at the two bickering in front of him and Blaise couldn’t take his eyes off the girls intertwined fingers. He was trying to hide his smirk but doing a very poor job of it.

“Well it was on my mind before we were rudely interrupted. Besides, I’d rather not go into family matters now, wouldn’t you? Seems inappropriate at a Ceremony, no?” Pansy smiled at him with a nasty fake smile. He rolled his eyes at her, wondering if she was implying the comments made about his family too. Luna laughed. 

Theo eyed Luna with the utmost intrigue and gave a smile. “I think we could all use a drink,” he said, “it’s the best way to deal with that,” he motioned to the balcony where Audrena had just been and then back to Pansy standing in front of them.

… 

When Hermione had finished shaking the bits of glass out of her curls, she worked with Ginny to get Daphne off the floor. The girl seemed in shock, eyes huge and watching the spot where Mrs. Parkinson had been. Her face had paled and the color hadn't returned. Ginny kept looking at Hermione, wondering what the hell they were going to do with her. Hermione took out her wand, deciding to try a diagnostic spell for healing, if the wards would allow. 

The boys began righting several tipped tables and chairs, theirs included. Harry excused himself to speak with Kinglsey, shrugging when Hermione suggested that it probably wouldn’t get him very far. He seemed to feel it was the right thing to do and, knowing him, he was probably doing it more to calm the crowd than anything.

When she watched him walk away, she realized the state of things in front of them. Windows were still shattered and the cold air was seeping in. Gold robed wizards were quickly repairing the damage. People huddled together in small packs still surrounding the Goblet. It sent a shiver down her spine. She turned back to Ginny and Daphne, wondering if Audrena was telling the truth and what she could possibly mean by the children and the plan. 

They managed to get Daphne into a chair. The spell was no use and Hermione huffed angrily. Ginny went on to help Daphne regulate her breathing when Draco, Pansy, and Luna came shuffling through the crowd towards them. 

She eyed Pansy, who looked nothing out of the ordinary as she continued to fume with every step. She was towing Luna by the hand and Luna didn’t seem to mind at all. Hermione eyed them curiously and Pansy shot her a look. Hermione was about to open her mouth when Ron stepped in instead.

“What in Merlin’s name was that all about!” Ron said, all too loudly. He stood with his shoulders square on the defense. George sighed before leaving Angelina’s side for his brother's and walked up rather casually to stand at Ron’s right.

Malfoy stepped out from behind the girls then, his eyes darker as they passed between Ron and Pansy. He stood up straight but aloof, head tilted in curiosity at what the Weasleys would do. Hermione had not remembered Malfoy being quite so tall…

Pansy blinked before letting go a scoff. “That thing up there? That was my mother, thank you very much. Mummy Weasley’s sounding like quite the peach to you now, huh? Just be happy you didn’t have to go home to that every holiday.” She pushed past Ron and snagged the seat next to Daphne. She let go of Luna just before she sat, leaving the girl to float to the chair beside her. Luna didn’t seem to mind. 

Ron exchanged a nervous glance with George, who shrugged. He clapped him on the back in good humor before walking back over to Angelina. 

“Daph, she’s gone and I will make sure to get back at her for this,” Pansy was saying, placing a hand on her friend’s. Daphne turned and gave a smile, her shoulders relaxing for the first time that night. Ginny looked relieved and stood to join Hermione. Cormac took her place. 

Theo arrived then, a tray of drinks floating behind him. He seemed to be looking for Cormac, but found him sitting with Daphne. He gave Theo a small smile. Draco took a glass off the tray in passing and Ginny pushed past her brother in her effort to get one too. Ron was right behind her, clearly annoyed.

Hermione dodged the tray and, feeling that Pansy and Daphne were both in better hands with each other, wheeled on Malfoy. She smacked him on the chest when he walked up to her and he stared back confused. “Are you always so stupid at the worst times? Provoking violent individuals in the middle of a party,” she huffed. 

He blinked at her before laughing and turning to Theo. “You know, when Potter does it he’s brave, but when I do it I’m stupid,” Draco said, “There’s a lesson in equality here, I’m sure of it.”

“Oh truly,” Theo nodded chuckling. The two men clinked glasses as Cormac materialized by Theo’s side. 

Hermione fixed Draco with an angry stare and he felt the light pull of her magic in his hands again. He rolled his eyes. 

“Audrena is and always will be severely self-centered around her own superiority to the point it hurts. I was just trying to save Pansy and everyone the grief and, hey, at least we have a lead now,” he offered, sipping at his glass with a smile. 

Hermione sighed and turned to get herself a drink. He had a point. When she returned a moment later, he was still smiling and she frowned. “I should have just levitated him up there with her,” she said under her breath to Ginny, who laughed. 

Draco perked up but gave a shrug. “Halfway across the room I had the right mind to consider you’d throw yourself at her too, always the war heroine and all. But then I figured, as the brightest witch of our age the odds of you showing some restraint should be much higher,” he smirked and she smacked him on the arm. 

“What? That was a compliment, love,” he laughed. Theo hid his laughter behind his glass. Hermione’s eyes were glaring and Draco looked away, feeling the spark of magic in his veins again and eying the ring on his finger with annoyance.

Harry was heading back over to them then, a hand running through his hair. Ginny hurried over to him and put her arm around his waist. He gave a weak smile. “Hello. No surprise, Kingsley just told me there was nothing to worry about. He already sent aurors after her, or so he says,” Harry sighed. “Highly unlikely,” he rubbed his forehead.

“At least we have something to work off of now,” Hermione tried, although even her voice didn’t sound reassuring.

“I just wish I could get a word out to my people,” Harry’s voice was anxious as he twirled his useless wand in his hand.

“The dark mark isn’t looking so silly under the circumstances now is it,” Theo said quietly and he couldn’t even contain his own laughter. 

Cormac looked at him, eyes wide with astonishment, while several of the Gryffindors were speechless. George was tapping Angelina on the arm and chuckling, as if reminding her he said it first. 

But it was Draco who surprised them all. He started laughing. And it wasn’t just the typical chuckle or spiteful laugh he sometimes gave when he was being sarcastic or pretentious. It was a real, genuine laugh. And it was lovely. 

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but couldn’t get her voice to work. Ginny looked at him like he was crazy but her eyes gave her away. She stifled her own laugh behind her hand and Harry nudged her. George leaned in and gave Theo a high five.

Hermione stood there, Draco laughing at her side just watching him with a little more awe than she knew. It was a sound she’d never heard before. She couldn’t help but smile as a small wave of magic crashed through her veins. She blinked, confused.

A flash of silver caught Ginny’s eye and she glanced at Hermion’s hand, where the ring glowed on her finger. “Uh…” Ginny said to her under her breath, pulling Hermione by the elbow away from the group. 

Malfoy had finally stopped laughing and the Slytherins were hearing a weak argument from Harry as to why the use of a mark like that would not be feasible. Ron and George were the ones laughing this time, much to Harry's chagrin. 

“What is this?” Ginny said, holding up her hand to the shining silver. 

Hermione’s smile faltered. “I- what? I have no idea. Ernie said they were enchanted but…” 

“And why are the rings enchanted?” Ginny said through gritted teeth. “That seems a little extreme, no?” she glared at her own and then looked at the back of Harry’s head. He turned as if on cue and raised an eyebrow at her. 

“What the hell. Don’t tell me these things are connecting us somehow,” she managed before walking away from Hermione and grabbing Harry’s left hand. His ring looked much the same. The conversation the group was having was cut off as they watched her. 

“What are you doing?” he said, confused. “I only turned because I felt-” but he stopped there, hesitant. He locked eyes with Ginny, unsure.

“You felt what, exactly?” 

Harry had expected it to be Ginny asking. But as Hermione stepped up next to Malfoy, Harry realized it was her who posed the question. Malfoy looked at her curiously knowing why she asked. Mostly because, as he felt his own ring nervously then, he knew exactly what she meant.


	13. The After Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What better way to kill the anxiety about your new home than invite all your friends over to join you? And talk more about this stupid fucked up law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this next installment :) some juicy plot is developing~

The rest of the Ceremony was irritating and awkward and much too long. Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s combined insistent pleading did nothing for Kingsley, Wimberly, or the Wizengamot members- the Ceremony was to continue no matter what. Hermione wasn’t the only furious one. 

It was nearly ten when Hermione walked next to Malfoy to the floo. There were so many thoughts racing through her mind that she didn’t know where to begin to compartmentalize it all. And then there was the looming thought of going to Malfoy Manor.

It sent a shiver down her spine and she was happy that Malfoy had been talking to Cormac and not noticed. She hoped whatever their connection was now with these rings that he couldn’t feel it that way either. She slowed so that she could walk with Ginny and Malfoy didn’t even notice. Ginny clung to Harry’s arm happily and she frowned when she saw Hermione’s face break into worry. 

“It won’t be that bad,” she tried, but Harry cut her off.

“Why don’t you just go back to your flat? I’m sure he won’t mind,” Harry said quietly, eying Malfoy in front of them. 

Hermione scoffed. “And be the head of another scandal for Rita Skeeter and the Prophet? No thanks,” she said firmly. She had her fair share when she and Ron broke up; she didn’t need them now with Malfoy in the mix. He’d take it worse than Ron would. 

The only good thing after some of those bad articles was getting the chance to sit around the fire with Ginny, Harry, Luna, and some of their other friends and laugh. The wheels in Hermione’s brain started turning. Maybe that’s what they all could use now…

“What if,” she ventured, turning back to Harry and Ginny, “You all come to the Manor?” she knew it was a weak invitation, but part of her figured the place would feel a lot less awful with her friends around her, at least for part of the night. 

Ron was only a step away, holding Daphne’s hand. “LIke an after party?” he questioned, clearly not realizing what she meant by ‘Manor’. 

“We’re in,” it was Theo’s charming voice that answered Ron as he suddenly fell into step with them. Pansy was on his heels, still towing Luna by the hand. She had a wicked grin on her pointed face.

“And I know just the place,” Theo gave Hermione a wink before quickening his pace so he reached Malfoy and Cormac just as they got to the hall with all the fireplaces. 

Hermione watched Theo curiously. “He’s very good at the whole schmoozing thing,” Pansy said to her as she stopped by Hermione’s side. Hermione eyed her curiously.

“Malfoy, Cormac. Come on now, let’s get on with this night with less work talk. I could use the company of 80 year old fire whiskey and a tall lion to soothe my woes over the institution of marriage.” Theo clapped Malfoy on the shoulder as he put an arm around Cormac’s lower back. Cormac smiled bashfully and put his hands in his pockets. 

Malfoy raised a brow in Theo’s direction. “Not your worst idea Theo but…” he turned to the Gryffindors. “Is that a plan that would work for the Golden Trio and their companions? I don’t want to go making decisions based on a drunk snake and his love for men and whiskey. Pansy you usually invite yourself to these sorts of things, so I assume you and Lovegood are accounted for.” 

Pansy shrugged. “He’s not wrong.” 

“Anywhere’s better than this,” Ginny stated, glancing behind them at all the other new couples slowly making their way to the fireplaces. An uneasy sense of anticipation had followed them to the hallway.

“Agreed,” Ron said, too busy grinned at Daphne. She looked away, her cheeks pink. 

“Weasleys,” Malfoy looked at Ginny first, “I take it you speak for the Chosen One and you,” he eyed Ron with a chuckle, “for yourself and your bride. I guess that just leaves my lovely wife. What will it be, Mrs. Malfoy?” he smirked, turning to Hermione. “Ready for some house guests, yeah?” 

She hated that he kept using that name. “Fine,” she said through her teeth although secretly she was relieved. 

“I’ll need just a minute to adjust the wards and then you all can follow,” he walked up to the nearest fireplace and stood, his arm out. When she eyed it again, like she had before, he rolled his eyes. 

“Formalities Granger, let’s get on with it,” he knew the use of her own surname would sway her. She huffed but gave a slight smile and took his arm. There was a woosh of green flames and heat and the next thing she knew, Hermione was stepping out into the eerie black of Malfoy Manor. 

…

The room was big with arching ceilings and a cold black tiled floor. Hermione hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she felt Malfoy pulling her arm gently out of the grate. The mantle was a lovely white and silver and the rug, though now scattered with ash, was of a lush turquoise. She stared down at it while she willed her lungs to work properly. 

No one else had popped up behind them yet and Draco was busy placing his wand at all the sconces to bring some light into the entryway. When he turned back to the fireplace he set an intricate looking pattern, which she could only assume were the wards. 

He turned to her then. When he noticed she was pale, he placed a hand on her arm. She tensed. Her breath was still hitching. 

“It’s… much different since the last time you were here,” he said quietly. “It’s been renovated.” 

When she stayed silent and kept her head down, he grew nervous. He willed his magic to reach out to her, unsure if it was even possible or smart. This whole connection they somehow now shared, it was different than anything he’d ever heard of before. They probably shouldn’t just play around with it before figuring out what it truly meant. 

She seemed to react, her shoulders relaxing as she tried to steady her breath. He wondered if she felt his magic, but he didn’t want to ask. She looked up at him when her breathing had slowed and was surprised to see his gray eyes swirling.

“Come along,” Malfoy put a hand on her back to guide her away from the fireplace. The room was brighter with the candles all lit and Hermione could just see a family portrait hanging above the mantle. She couldn’t see all their faces from this far away and she was glad of it. She could just make out a long haired blond man with his hand around his wife’s waist and it made her want to vomit.

Malfoy was still watching her with an arm around her own waist when the fireplace roared to life again. Ginny and Harry stepped easily out of the green flames, followed closely by Ron and Daphne. Ron had her hands in his as if Daphne might topple over if she hit the floor too hard. She was quite small comparatively. They did tumble then and Harry and Ginny tried to dodge their approach. 

“Classy,” Ginny threw at her brother as she straightened herself on her heels. Ron chuckled and walked Daphne away from the mantle. More flames and Pansy and Luna were walking out of the fireplace, not holding hands this time. Pansy looked slightly flustered and Luna just smiled. 

One last flourish of green and Theo and Cormac came waltzing through, arms linked and matching smiles. They exchanged a look like they shared some secret before turning to the rest of the group. 

“Well don’t all look so thrilled to be here! Onward!” Theo called and gestured to Malfoy. 

“As you wish, Master Nott,” Draco joked before glancing at Hermione one last time. He felt the smallest bit of her magic reach him and he took it as a sign. He gently pulled at her waist and the group followed them down the hall. 

They emerged in what looked like a study. There were several large white armchairs gathered around an enormous stone fireplace. A table made out of a slab of wood sat in between the chairs and shelves of books and magical artifacts hung on either side. A desk stood in the corner with huge windows behind it. The morning sun must make it an excellent place to do work, Hermione thought as she looked around.

And Malfoy had been right. She didn’t recognize this place one bit. Whether that was because it had been renovated or this wasn’t a room she had been held prisoner in, she couldn’t be sure. But it gave her a little bit of hope that this place wouldn’t be as horrible as her nightmares always remembered it to be.

Another portrait hung in this room, off to the side by the desk. She could just make out the blonde head of a small boy climbing a tree when Ginny grabbed her hand. She was shaken back to reality. “You okay?” Ginny asked, glancing around at all the flashy decor. 

“Yeah, I think so,” she muttered, watching the others move about the room. 

Malfoy was busy waving a hand at the fireplace where it roared to life. Then he turned to the armchairs and took out his wand, transfiguring two of them into a much larger couch. Hermione blinked at him, impressed. Theo was already walking over to the cabinet beside the fireplace. When he opened it, it revealed a dozen bottles of fire whiskey and liquor. He began filling up glasses and Cormac went to help him by levitating them to the table. 

He sent two over to Hermione and Ginny who caught them midair. Hermione held her glass up then, “Home sweet home I guess?” Ginny clicked her glass and chuckled before they walked over to join the group.

Pansy was sprawled up on the sofa, her shoes having been kicked off and her legs now draped over Luna’s lap. “So, how fucked up is this law going to be for everyone? Bets?” Pansy said loudly, looking around with a smile.

“Crass,” Daphne said to her behind a giggle. She was holding Ron’s hand as he stood against a bookshelf. 

“Do you expect much less, Daph? Her mom was the one to grace us with her presence at the Ceremony. Typical,” Theo laughed as he finished making his own drink. He walked towards the fire and took an armchair nearest it. Cormac followed and perched himself regally on the arm.

“We really should discuss that actually,” Hermione stated, standing behind the sofa. “There’s got to be more to this than just some stupid old politicans wanting more magic in the world. Why else would your mother have referred to a plan?” 

Theo eyed Draco but Hermione missed it. He glanced at Pansy uneasily, but she didn’t seem bothered at all.

“Because she’s a psychopath?” Pansy offered with a laugh. “In all seriousness, she’s still obsessed with lineages and I have now royally fucked the Parkinson line.”

“But that’s the reason she’s pissed at you,” Draco said from across the room, “not the reason she’s pissed at Kingsley, whoever he is.” 

Hermione hadn’t been paying attention to Malfoy, who was now striding across the room to the sofa. He sat on the opposite side of Pansy and Luna, so that Hermione stood right behind him. She scoffed as he smirked up at her. 

“So who of the remaining baddies would your mum be working with that could potentially be polyjucing as Kingsley?” Theo smirked, “My father’s in Azkaban, along with Rodolphus Lestrange, Crabbe and Goyle Senior, Madame Macnair, the remaining Carrow, and the dozen or so other underlings that were caught. There’s plenty who are dead. That doesn’t leave too many,” Theo clicked his tongue. 

Hermione eyed him. “Yes, but Mrs. Parkinson, along with her husband, were found not guilty at their trials. Madame Zabini and Mulciber as well. I believe the Greengrasses weren’t tried at all since they weren’t seen in the country at the time,” Hermione glanced at Daphne, but she didn’t say anything differently. 

“And there’s a bunch of them paying their debts in other ways besides Azkaban. House arrest, magical restorative practices, work programs and the like,” Harry mentioned, looking around the group. They all knew it too well from how much publicity all the trials and aftermath of the war had. So why was it so hard to figure out who was behind this?

Hermione felt a wave of Malfoy’s magic then, quick and sudden. It pulsed in an erratic way. Her eyes flashed at him and she saw his fist clenched and his jaw tight. He drank half his glass before speaking, “And then there’s my fucking father.” 

Theo’s eyes got wide as he glanced at Pansy. She eyed him back fiercely, as if in warning. Cormac and Luna appeared the only ones confused and Theo put a hand on Cormac’s leg.

“Lucius Malfoy is still missing,” Theo said quietly. Harry ran a hand through his hair as he sighed.

Lucius Malfoy’s disappearance was something of a sore subject for the Aurors and the Order alike. It seemed they had every other important death eater accounted for during the fighting and then in the aftermath, Lucius among them. He appeared easy to track, as far as the Order was concerned.

But sometime between the very end and the start of the trials, Lucius Malfoy, who had been obedient in custody and even cordial in preliminary interviews, had vanished. How could he have slipped from under their fingers just like that? It was nearly impossible for anyone to comprehend and Hermione felt her own anger rise all over again.

It triggered something in her own magic and she felt an odd sensation as it mixed with Draco’s, still lingering in her system. He turned his head sharply and glared at her. “What?” she said accusingly and he huffed as he stood. 

Draco walked to the other side of the room, finishing his drink in one gulp. This magical connection was going to be the death of him, he thought. He always tried so hard to keep his feelings from people, but now Granger had a direct line to all of them. It almost made him want to panic. 

“What is with you two is the question,” Theo said, eying them curiously. He had a slight smirk on his lips. 

Hermione’s cheeks reddened but she was still irritated. “Nothing,” she said, eying her ring now. It was glowing much like it did before, shining with a silvery light around her finger. 

“Malfoy is yours-” she started but before she could finish Draco had waved his own hand to summon the fire whiskey bottle to him. His ring flashed bright before them all and he held it up so she could see. He sneered at her in response.

Theo’s eyes widened at Draco’s hand. Ron’s brows knit together while Cormac was busy looking from Hermione to Draco and back again as Hermione glared. Harry and Ginny exchanged looks. 

“We knew the rings were going to be enchanted. Ernie broke the news last week and I’m guessing there is some strange language written into the law that might account for an association between partners. But I didn't expect our magic to be so… connected,” Hermione said, her voice full of irritation. She didn’t have to look at Draco to know he was still mad; she could feel it beneath her skin as she stood there.

Draco filled his glass again and was already sipping from it. “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” he stared at the ice of his drink.

“Our emotions are tied to our magic,” Luna said then, her voice light. “The rings must be enchanted to connect our magic somehow. We felt it when we put the rings on,” She glanced at Pansy and the two exchanged a warm smile before Pansy looked away, a blush rising across her high cheekbones.

It made Hermione feel awkward, like she’d just eavesdropped on a secret moment. But their rings hadn’t glowed. She looked away but ended up glancing at Draco again, feeling his eyes on her. They were steel gray and harsh and she knew he was recalling the spark of magic when they’d put the rings on too. Or maybe he was still thinking about his father.

She felt the kick of his magic once more; this time it wasn’t pleasant. “Oh, will you relax?” she huffed at him, walking over to where he held the bottle and snatched it from him. Draco took a step back as if the proximity to her would make things worse. Ron frowned and shifted on his feet. 

Harry and Ginny exchanged another interested look. Pansy raised an eyebrow as Theo snickered. “Look at that connection. Don’t let Rita Skeeter hear or you’ll make the front page.” 

Hermione shot her a dirty look before pouring herself another glass. She could feel the alcohol from earlier in her system but it didn’t stop her. Draco scowled at Pansy and then at Theo for laughing. 

Luna spoke again, “Well, I can speak to Ernie. Try and figure out what the charms on the rings are supposed to do for the couples. But if someone's tampered with them…” she let her voice drift off, as if she were thinking deeply on her own words.

“We need to be alert, all of us,” Hermione said then, “to any changes, what’s going on with the rings and our connections. It’s the only way we’re going to figure out what’s going on.” 

Pansy chuckled. “Are we meeting weekly then or should I just floo the minute something happens?”

Ginny glared. “Come on Pansy, you know she’s just trying to help. You’d think you’d be on our side, it wasn’t like it was her mother screaming from the balcony.”

“Shut it, Weasley,” Pansy said between her teeth, her face turning red. Luna tensed.

“Don’t act like this doesn’t stink of death eater antics. Sorry to any of you Slytherins whose family is still screwed up, but there’s something more going on and I’m not going to wait around while it fucks us all royally,” stated Ginny, her anger flaring. The room grew uncomfortably quiet.

Harry flinched and Hermione knew it had to do with their rings and the connection. He straightened, trying to find the words to say into the void, but he didn’t have to; Pansy simply started laughing. Theo shifted in his seat.

“It’s all fun and games for you, huh Pans? Or dare you too afraid to admit Weasley’s right?” Draco said quietly. 

Pansy’s grin faded and was replaced by her puggish scowl. She crossed her arms and looked away from him, her emotions longing to break. Hermione eyed the man in front of her, wondering what he wasn’t telling them. 

Draco sighed as he gestured for Hermione to rejoin the group. He followed her and stood by the fire while she took his spot on the couch. He swirled the ice in his glass as he stared at the flames. Theo watched with a frown.

“During the war, Voldemort had many research projects. He was a strategist, first and foremost, and well he wanted the best fighters, the best healers, the best plans for the future. His future.” Draco sighed. 

“Theo, Pansy, and I didn’t stand a chance; the minute our parents decided to be on his side again, so were we,” he paused, searching Theo and Pansy’s faces for any sign of misstep. Pansy refused to look at him but Theo nodded. 

“Most of our work was done researching bits and pieces to be sent back to various potion masters, charm experts, whoever he brought in to do his bidding. That way we couldn’t ever really learn what they were working on. But there was a particular one…” he paused again.

Theo seemed to tense, his face breaking out into regret. Pansy was fidgeting with her hands in her lap. “It was called The Clarity Project. It wasn’t much at first, or at least we thought. It’s aims were basic, looking into magic in relation to blood status and if there was a true connection between magical strength and lineage. But that was only the beginning. After a while it was clear the goal was to see if... if a person’s magical purity could be calculated.”

“Excuse me?” Ginny asked skeptically, “Magic purity? How is that different from blood status?” Harry looked from her to Malfoy, his chin in his hand. Pansy looked like she may be sick.

Theo was the one who answered, his voice grave. “Your blood status is just based on your parents’ lineages. The death eaters figured out that each person has a magical trace of how powerful their magic is. The purity of your magic, as they called it, is more complex than blood status. It can be based on your lineage but more importantly on how skilled you are at magic and your potential; the physical amount of magical ability flowing in your body. Voldemort was curious to see if it was a more complete way to look at a person’s… worth.”

Hermione’s mouth hung open and Draco watched her. She remembered when Harry had figured out Tom Riddle was a half-blood and how crazy it was that he was so obsessed with blood purity. Now the fact he had been researching an alternative made her blood chill. 

“And he was going to use this information to do what exactly?” Harry spoke, his voice tense. 

Draco took a deep breath. “He wanted to see if it was possible to track, first off, in order to see which ones of his loyal servants actually had high magical ability, in addition to the rest of society. He wanted to see if it lined up with blood status in the traditional way.”

“Did they actually figure out how to track someone’s magic?” Ron asked and Draco frowned. Theo answered again.

“They had been working on a prototype spell that would give the diagnostic,” Theo stated. “But we could never confirm if they finalized it.” Hermione shivered. 

“How did you get so much information then, if none of you worked on it exclusively?” she asked, passing from Theo to Pansy and then to Draco. “There’s only so much you could have pieced together,” she said, watching him.

Draco shifted his feet before speaking. “My father was… very interested in the operations of the Clarity Project, to say the least. He constantly assisted the researchers and I was able to eavesdrop enough, steal a look at papers in his study,” Draco gave her a small smirk, but it vanished quickly. “And…” he eyed Pansy out of the corner of his eye before continuing, “Pansy’s mother was one of the researchers.” 

Pansy let her head drop to the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling as if in denial. Luna watched her, her eyes searching for a way to console her new partner. Cormac tensed while Harry and Ginny exchanged wide eyes. 

“Unfortunately that means we know the next steps too,” Draco continued swiftly, “The researchers were looking at what affected one’s purity and if it could be increased. They were particularly curious about relationships, if joining those with the same purities produced anything of consequence.” He paused. “Specifically their intentions were focused for battling during the war and then, after the war… for breeding.” Hermione gulped. Ginny’s hand flew over her mouth. 

“To make a race of magically superior individuals,” Theo said with disgust. “Honestly I had pushed that project out of my mind for so long it didn’t come to the surface until tonight,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Cormac put a hand on his shoulder. 

Everyone was still so quiet. Hermione’s mind was working a hundred miles a minute. She was thinking about all the possibilities of what this Marriage Law could mean if it was truly sabotaged into an old death eater project. She was considering the effects of purity magic mixed with all the compatibility charms… 

Theo eyed Draco nervously. “Could you father be...” Theo let his voice trail, realizing what he was saying too late. 

Daphne looked pale and Ron put his arm around her. Ginny took Harry’s hand in hers as he raked the other through his hair again. Luna appeared lost in her own thoughts, but she was holding Pansy’s hand with both of hers. Hermione felt his magic creep in slowly this time as Draco tensed his hand around his glass. 

“Living out a fantasy? It is very possible,” he said, his voice low. The room was silent. “And I’m sorry it took until now for me to realize it,” he said holding up the empty glass to examine before tossing it into the fire.


	14. Firewhiskey and Character Flaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can't come up with a summary for this one so, After Party, Part II? Tempers and magical connections a plenty!

Hermione felt the urge to get up to somehow comfort Malfoy for his realization. But she didn’t know how. She figured it was a side effect of the rings, so she stayed seated. She stared at him, willing her magic to reach out to him instead.

But the minute he realized she was getting close it was like her magic hit a wall and bounced back. She blinked, looking at him. He was putting up walls to keep her out. He stared back, his face hard. She saw him scratch at the fabric of his sleeve on his left arm. 

“We need to tell McGonagall about this,” Hermione managed, pulling her eyes away from him, “and the rest of the Order.” She took a drink from her glass to calm down.

Theo looked confused. “The Order’s still in operation? I would have thought it would have disbanded after the war…” He took out his wand as he spoke and waved it at the fire whiskey bottle Hermione left abandoned on the other side of the room. It soared over and began refilling everyone’s glasses. 

Hermione was surprised by the lack of house elves but attributed it to the lateness of the night. She wouldn’t guess the Malfoys to have gotten rid of their help completely. She hoped Draco was at least nicer to them than his father had been to Dobby. She shuttered, but then remembered that she was now a Malfoy too. Maybe she could free the elves if they were still being mistreated... 

“On the contrary, I consult the Order when the Aurors can’t get any further in particular cases,” Harry said. Pansy was still not talking and Ginny kept watching her. She drank her fire whiskey quickly and leaned into Luna. Luna didn’t seem to mind at all. 

“And McGonagall is part of it?” Cormac’s voice was skeptical as he smiled thinking of the old witch.

“She is,” Hermione said, watching her glass fill again as the bottle made its way to her, “along with Flitwick, Sprout, Slughorn, the majority of the Weasley family, to name a few. Moody’s in charge of it all.”

“Kingsley’s supposed to be a part of the Order too, though I doubt anyone knows where the real him is,” said Ron, looking irritated. “Who the hell is impersonating him? Do you have any idea where your father is Malfoy?” 

Draco stiffened. “Don’t you think I would already be halfway there if I knew Weasley?” he said smugly. “It could very well be my father, but he wasn’t giving away any clues to me if that’s what you're asking.”

“Excuse me for not being completely ready to trust you,” Ron said harshly, standing up to his full height.

“Ronald,” Hermione’s voice was sharp. 

“What? Just because he’s suddenly your husband and you’re all fine holding hands doesn’t mean we’re all best friends. You know what he’s done. All this knowledge of some Clarity Project sounds suspicious.” 

Hermione saw Theo’s hands twitch and Cormac shift uncomfortably. She felt Malfoy’s anger rise with her own. She knew Malfoy wouldn’t have apologized if he didn’t mean it; that was part of his aristocratic upbringing and Ron’s accusations were far from unbiased. She sighed irritated, preparing to calm him down.

But Draco responded before she could. He kept his voice controlled, “If you honestly think I would allow my friends to be married off to strangers of the likes of you, then you have forgotten just how loyal Slytherins are to one another. Not to mention thinking I would volunteer myself to be married to stubborn know-it-all Granger.”

Hermione glared. “Thank you for the eloquent description Malfoy, but I must remind you I’m on your side.” Ron grimaced at her words. Theo smirked.

Draco wasn’t done yet though. “Lucius never won any ‘Father of the Year’ awards. I endured enough of his shit for one lifetime. You wouldn’t see me itching to join his ranks now, Weasley.” 

“And that’s the first time you haven’t called her mudblood,” Ron was quiet in his sarcasm. “Must be nice to see she’s already eating out of your hand with such a simple change.” His face was red with irritation and alcohol. 

Hermione fumed. She hated when Ron got like this and she hated them both for making this about her. “Enough!” Hermione said loudly, feeling Malfoy’s oddly fast moving magic flow through her words. It stuck to her lips and her fingers tingled as it raced. She felt suddenly more powerful and she wasn't sure she liked it.

She raised her brows at Malfoy and he scoffed but took the hint. He walked away and took a few deep breaths. She felt the magic retreat slightly, but it was still full of rampant energy just under her skin. She watched as Daphne took a step away from Ron’s side and she was glad of it. Pansy had finally come back to reality; she sat up straight and was eying Ron with aggression.

When Hermione finally looked at Ron, she frowned. He was watching her behind a strand of red hair. He looked suddenly ashamed. “Ron, I think it’s time for you to go,” she said evenly. He let out a long breath but didn’t say anything to her, just looked at her with sad, tired eyes. She turned to Harry, hoping he would help. Harry stood and Ginny followed his lead. 

“Come on mate, let’s move on and go home,” Harry said to Ron, walking over and putting an arm on his shoulder. “Sleep it off, yeah?” Harry said under his breath. “I know you didn’t mean it all.” 

“I-I didn’t…” Ron was saying quietly, “Not really, you know I care about her and I just…”

“I know mate,” Harry said to him as they walked past Malfoy towards the door. Draco felt a flicker of jealousy at Ron’s whispered words, wondering just how much Weasley did still care about Granger... and wondering why he cared.

Ginny straightened and walked over to Hermione. She huffed at her brother and leaned in to give Hermione a hug. Ginny squeezed her tight. “You’ll be okay tonight? Sorry about… all this,” she said quietly to her. 

Hermione gave a weak smile. “It’s okay, really.” 

Ginny nodded with a smile and a roll of her eyes. “He is a right prat at the worst times, but… so is Malfoy. Just be careful Hermione.” 

“I will. Your brother means well,” Hermione smiled sadly. “Go, before Harry forgets you.” Ginny squeezed her hand and when she got to the doorway, Malfoy was standing there offering to show her the way. Harry and Ron were nowhere in sight. She eyed Hermione briefly before following Malfoy into the darkness. Hermione hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid if Harry and Ron hadn’t left yet.

And then she felt a sudden change in the atmosphere. The quick magic from before that made her skin practically vibrate felt like it was being pulled out of her. She looked back at the empty doorway with a frown. She didn’t want to keep thinking about this connection she shared with Malfoy, but it was becoming obvious theirs was stronger, almost more sensitive. And much more emotionally driven. She worried about what that meant for them…

Realizing she was still standing awkwardly, she came around to an armchair by the fire. It was warm and made her forget the slightly empty feeling of Malfoy’s absence. Instead, his flippant comments about marrying her came to mind and she was annoyed all over again. She sighed.

“Well this has been fun,” Theo laughed, watching her. “Who knew so much about… so much?” Daphne blinked at him. 

“Come on Daph, you can stay at my place,” Pansy said then and patted the seat beside her. The girl still looked nervous but walked the short distance to the sofa and sat. 

Hermione gave Daphne a sympathetic look. “Sorry. He can be really charming, when he’s not being an arse and drinking too much.” 

Pansy chuckled. “Is that what you’re calling it? I’d say he’s just jealous.” 

Hermione looked to Pansy confused. “Jealous? Of Malfoy? You can’t be serious.” 

“Oh, certainly,” Theo said, “Draco’s rich, has a stable career and company, has this,” he gestured to the room and the house, “and now he’s got a personal connection and marriage with the Golden Girl. Everything’s coming up daisies for him again.” 

Hermione laughed. “That’s ridiculous! You heard Malfoy, it’s not going to be a walk in the park, this marriage of ours. So much for compatibility, I think the only thing we have in common is our stubbornness. He’s pretentious and proud, it’s so irritating how he keeps a going rebuttal on every little thing I say!” she huffed. 

Theo, Pansy, and Daphne laughed as she listed off the characteristics they obviously knew too well. “Oh you aren’t wrong,” Pansy stated, “you’re just the type who won’t put up with it. Partially because you’re overly proud too. Annoy really, but that’s why it’ll work for you, trust me.” Hermione gave her a quizzical look.

“And to be frank, Daphne’s a much better pick for Weasley than you,” Theo said. “You're too opinionated and confident Granger, wounds Weasley’s pride. Draco has too much pride, so you won’t have to worry about wounding his,” Theo laughed again. Hermione just sat in wonder. 

“Daph is just relaxed enough that she won’t take Weasley too seriously unless he needs it. And she’s learned to ignore Draco anyway,” Daphne’s cheeks turned red as she watched her hands in her lap. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to talk about you like you’re not here,” he said then, looking at Daphne and giving her a warm smile. “You’re a prize and it will just take a little for the idiot Weasley to see it.” 

Daphne gave him a smile back. “Thank you Theo,” she said. “I’m not sure I believe you yet, but... he’s been pleasant all evening, at least to me he’s been rather… kind, fun. Except for that last bit.”

Hermione sighed again. “I hope you two can get past this,” she said to Daphne, “we wanted different things, that’s sort of why it didn’t work out but… he can be sweet, a lot of fun and he’ll put his all into this, into you. I know it.” 

Daphne’s cheeks grew red again as she smiled shyly at Hermione. Theo had his eyebrows raised but sipped at his drink instead of saying anything. Daphne sighed. “I just hope he can get past the whole Slytherin thing. The past always finds a way to screw things up for us, it’s dreadfully unfair.”

“Well it seems those are the cards we’ve been dealt. And we’ll just keep working to figure them out,” Theo said calmly, taking Cormac’s hand in his. Cormac gave a small smile as he stared at the fire. Hermione watched them with interest as Pansy shot Daphne a tentative smile. 

A silence overcame the remaining six for a short while before Theo broke it again. “You going to be okay here Hermione?” he said, contemplation in his light blue eyes.

She sighed. “I think I’ll manage,” she sipped from her glass as she stared at the flames, ignoring the anxiety bubbling in the background of her mind. “What with my stubbornness and all.” Theo chuckled.

Pansy shifted on the couch. “Just be smart Granger. You see me and my reaction to my mother being involved... well, he’s not going to be much better.” Hermione looked at her. She was frowning back. 

“He is already assuming his father’s involvement which may or may not be true,” Theo stated seriously. 

“Oh, it's got to be true,” Pansy said under her breath. Theo glared at her and she shrugged. “What?” 

Theo rolled his eyes. “Just, give him space if he needs it. He’ll probably need it.” Hermione nodded her thanks at the advice. 

Pansy shifted again, she looked uncomfortable. When she ventured to look at Hermione, she could see the worry behind Pansy’s brown eyes. Luna was watching Pansy intently. They sat for another minute or so until they heard the click of Malfoy’s heels on the hallway floor. 

Hermione looked to the doorway before Draco even appeared. He entered seconds later, pulling at the tie still knotted at his throat. His lips were pressed together tightly and his shoulders held onto the tension from before. 

She was still angry at him for all that happened, but the return of his presence also brought the return of his magic. It filled back into the spaces inside her that it had vacated moments before. It was calming and that added to her annoyance. 

Theo stood, draining his glass. Cormac followed. “I think we’re headed out mate,” Theo said, gesturing at Pansy to do the same. “It’s been a long night. I think we could all use some time to think.” He put his hand out to Draco and they shook. 

“And we’ll be in touch, Mclaggen,” Draco said pointing. Cormac smiled at him and Theo led them to the door. 

“Who says we’re keeping his name?” Theo scoffed as they disappeared. 

Draco chuckled and came over to the fire. Pansy and Luna were standing right beside the couch, Daphne just a step behind them. “Don’t mourn our past too much Drake,” Pansy smirked. “We can get through this,” and she raised a hand to his cheek. Hermione frowned, wondering if there was some secret to all her dramatics.

Malfoy pulled her in for a hug then. Hermione didn’t see Pansy lean into his ear, “Be nice to her Drake. She may be annoying, but she’s just being her.” 

Draco rolled his eyes when they parted and then looked awkwardly at Luna. She smiled in that lofty way of hers and he returned it, somewhat confused. The pair headed for the door but waited just inside as Daphne stepped into Draco’s view.

“Sorry about-” he stared, but she just smiled. 

“Don’t be. I’m staying at Pansy’s. Thanks for always being there for us,” she said kindly. She turned to look at Hermione. “And thank you too Hermione.” 

She touched Draco’s arm as she passed him and joined the girls in the doorway. They waved once more and were gone. And then Hermione was aware just how alone they were. 

The fireplace crackled and she shivered, listening to the sound of footsteps disappear down the hall. She stared at the flames, willing herself not to turn and look at the man on the other side of the room. The one whose presence had relieved the small bit of emptiness in her chest.

Draco walked slowly to the cabinet to fix himself another drink. When he’d finished, he took the chair directly across from her, one leg bent up, his whiskey glass resting lazily over his knee. His gray eyes met hers and she held his gaze. 

Draco took a sip, his eyes not falling from her. He studied her, thinking about Ron Weasley’s jealousy and prejudice, even after all these years. It reminded him of his father and all the awful things he’d said about her and muggleborns. He wondered what Lucius’s plan could fully be and if there was any trace of it remaining in the house…

“Can I help you?” she challenged, because it was the only thing she could think to say and she didn’t want to look stupid. He was still staring and she seemed to knock him out of his reverie. 

Draco chuckled hollowly. “Possibly,” he paused, the quietness of the room making his tone degrade, “I leave you alone for five minutes with my friends and they already appear to like you more than me. How is that?” 

She blinked. “Must be that Golden Girl charm I throw around,” she shrugged, crossing her legs and realizing all too late how much of her it exposed. His mouth twisted into a smirk and, although she felt a flash of his magic again, she wasn’t sure if it was from the dress or the night’s events. She stared at him clenching his glass tight. 

“We’re married,” he stated, his voice still holding a bit of surprise. “Of all the matches I envisioned, yours I passed over every time.” He looked at the melting ice in his glass, almost bored. A challenge.

Hermione scowled. She felt the alcohol moving through her system and she wasn’t quite sure why his comment made her so mad. Was he trying to provoke her? 

“Was it because I’m a stubborn know-it-all or because of my blood?” she said then. This was the opposite of what Theo and Pansy had said about giving him space, but she didn’t care. 

“If those are the options, the former,” he drawled, “but really it was because every time I pictured the war heroine married to an infamous ex-death eater like myself I thought about how difficult your life would get. I didn’t think the Ministry had it in them to do that to you. Guess I was wrong.” 

Hermione blinked at him. “Maybe because it wasn’t the Ministry.”

“Maybe,” Draco echoed her, something between a scowl and a smirk playing at the corner of his lip as he took a sip. “Or some sick joke.” 

“Why would you care how difficult my life would get?” she asked then, feeling a flicker of his magic. Draco tried to keep his features unreadable.

He sighed. “I’m not a monster anymore Granger, I know too well the war was hell for you. Least I could ask for is that you don't suffer any more in this world,” he stated obviously and she looked away embarrassed. 

“I wouldn’t have considered you a monster to begin with,” she tried, thinking about the position his family had put him in as a child during a war. But he just laughed. 

“Oh I was. Don’t kid yourself. But I’ve always wondered if, in a different world, I could have made you fall for me. Looks like we’ll see. Compatibility charms, those of which you helped place, have to be accurate, you know. We were paired for a reason.” 

Hermione felt her face flush and tried to laugh at his comments, unsure of their sincerity. “Apparently Ron will be there to challenge you,” she joked. She took a sip of her drink as she watched him and sighed. 

Draco eyed her suspiciously, but he hid it behind another smirk. “Do you get off to jealousy then Granger? Because that’s what fuels Weasley more than anything. Although I don’t know why, Daphne is a fine face to look at,” he considered. “and you are, how did you put it? A stubborn know-it-all?” 

When his eyes flashed to hers, her cheeks were red again. At which comment he didn’t know, but he took pleasure that it riled her up. He smirked at her. 

“Why does it matter if he’s jealous? You’re the one that’s married to me, you’ve got the ring,” she let the bitterness seep into her words.

Draco laughed. “I know I’ll have to do more than wear a ring to win you over Granger. Is that why it didn’t work with Weasley? He equated a meaningful relationship to shacking up after quidditch games and gifting jewelry? Not hard to follow that.”

Hermione’s mouth hung open. She could feel her magic fire up under her skin. She hoped he felt it too. Her eyes narrowed. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you Malfoy.”

Draco’s jaw tightened. He knew she was watching him, the look she was giving him an inviting challenge. “I am not jealous Granger,” he mused, though he couldn’t stop the twitch of his magic. He tensed and she scoffed at him.

“Funny your words don’t match what I feel.” She raised her eyebrows at him and held up her left hand. It was her turn to smirk. 

Draco looked annoyed as he glanced down at the ring on his left hand too. He drained the rest of his glass and set it carefully on the table. Then he slid the ring off easily and placed it beside his glass. 

The connection that had tethered them together pulsed and faded into almost nothing. It was an unsettling feeling after the steady hum that carried through their conversation. She looked down at her own ring as it lost its luster and sat as a dull silver on her finger. 

“Now you don’t have to worry about interpreting my feelings,” he said as he stood. She looked up at him and he looked back, his gray eyes mesmerizing. “Or do you like being connected to me, Granger?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, for the record, I don't like bashing Ron. Or Hermione bashing Ron. I know it sort of happens in this chapter, but someone's gotta still be suspicious! 
> 
> I love him as a character in the series, but I still don't think he and Hermione should be together >.<


	15. Hangovers, Files, and Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which we see the splendor of Malfoy Manor and Hermione's stream of consciousness as it always carries her back to Malfoy. And Hermione does what Hermione does best- research! Oh, and I think Draco teases her a bit. It wouldn't be marriage if he didn't ;)

Malfoy was at the door before she could find her voice. She watched him, frozen to her chair, waiting for her heartbeat to return to normal. He was in the hallway when she heard him snap his fingers. There was a faint pop and then she heard his voice.

“Please take my wife to her room and show her where her things are,” he said calmly. And then his footsteps were disappearing away.

“What do you mean my things?” she called, but it was too late. She sighed as a small, dainty looking house elf appeared at the door. Hermione blinked at her. The elf was wearing a small, red jumper and boots. 

She scurried over and stared up at Hermione with big round eyes. Hermione tried not to let her irritation with Malfoy affect her features as the elf started talking.

“Master has already sent me to your home, Mistress. To bring back some things you may be needing to feel at home here, yes,” she squeaked. “I hope you no mind Ruby went theres Miss,” the elf began to cower back nervously.

Hermione frowned. “No, Ruby it’s- it’s quite alright. Thank you,” she said and the elf relaxed. While it was unnerving having someone in her flat without her knowledge, at least it hadn’t been Malfoy himself. That would really have gotten her temper going. A shy smile reached the elf’s mouth. 

“Come then. Ruby will take Mistress to her room,” the elf said and she began to walk towards the door. Hermione looked at the fire, wondering if she should put it out, but the idea that only a Malfoy could control things in the Manor came to mind. She stood and left her glass next to Draco’s ring. A cool feeling of emptiness was starting to sink in under her skin and it mixed uncomfortably with the alcohol. 

As she made her way to the door it dawned on her that she was now in fact, a Malfoy. She paused and turned, taking out her wand. One quick swish and the fire went out. She wanted to smile, but realized what she would be smiling at. 

She tried not to think about it as she followed Ruby into the hallway to a grand staircase. It curved upward to a beautiful balcony that held only two doors. Hermione wondered for a split second where the drawing room was and then thought better of it. She followed Ruby closely up the stairs. 

Hermione looked around when they reached the top. The view was astonishing, even in the soft lighting of the night. Sconces followed them up the staircase and a huge crystal chandelier hung dark from the cathedral ceiling. There was a large door to the left, but it was closed. The smallest stream of light shone at the bottom. Hermione wondered if it was Draco’s. 

“Over heres please Mistress,” Ruby called, standing by the only other door in the hall. Hermione hurried over, wondering if she could ask the elves not to call her that. 

“After you both got home tonight, Master told us to make sure the room was to your liking,” Ruby squeaked. “That’s when he sent me to your house, yes. I knew who you were right when he said so too. Oh such great things Miss has done, yes…” she blushed as if just now realizing she was rambling. She cowered a bit, out of old habit. “But Master told me it was utmost important, it was, to make sure yous happy. We hopes you be liking it Miss. If not, we can fix it we can.” 

Hermione eyed the elf curiously. She was starting to wonder what the extent of Malfoy’s generosity was. Ruby placed her palm on the door then and it swung open easily. She curtseyed, letting Hermione walk in. 

And Hermione could do nothing but gape. It was like she had stepped into 18th century France. Ornate blue and gold panels filled the enormous room in shocking splendor. A huge four poster bed with long curtains was in the middle of the room, flanked by floor to ceiling french doors. A fireplace adorned with gold and flowers was on the right. Two armchairs and a table sat in front of it. 

To the left were two doors and she inspected each. Ruby watched her with delight. The first was a bathroom with beautiful marble. The faucet of the sink was gold and she spied her toothbrush and hairbrush laying on a gold tray beside it. Had Malfoy decided which of her items she needed or did he leave that to Ruby?

She went to the second door and realized it was a closet. It was big enough to be the kitchen space of her flat. Three or four of her usual outfits hung neatly on metal hangers, but they looked sparse in such a big space. A large dresser with several drawers sat to the right. She opened the top drawer, but it was empty. 

She suddenly realized she didn’t have any undergarments except the ones she had on. Had Ruby not wanted to bring over such intimate attire? Or maybe Malfoy hadn’t thought of it to tell her. She didn’t blame him; it was an awkward thing to account for. She pulled the second drawer open just in case. 

As if by chance, a brand new pair of black knickers and a plain, black bra in her size sat neatly inside. She blinked. A magical dresser? She closed the drawer carefully and waited. Then she concentrated on something to wear to bed. When she pulled open the third drawer, a pair of silk black shorts and a black camisole were folded side by side. 

She shrugged. It was fancier than her normal white shirt and shorts, but it was more fitting to the room to be sure. She left the closet, shaking her head with a smile at the unbelievable splendor of it all. “Is it alright? Is Miss unhappy?” Ruby asked, about to cry.

“Oh not at all! It’s wonderful, unbelievably so Ruby. Thank you for bringing my things too,” she said to the elf. And Ruby smiled, tears leaking out of her eyes. 

“Ruby is glad. She wanted Mistress to like it here. She really did,” Ruby started crying. Hermione walked over and knelt, putting a hand on the elf’s shoulder. She reminded Hermione of Dobby’s friend Winky. 

“Why did you want me to like it so much?” Hermione asked gently. 

“It’s- it’s been so long since Master’s brought anyone home. No one for us to take cares of but him. And he’s easy yes, treats us well he does. But he thinks we don’t see... he’s lonely, see? So hearing you come, we all got happy, yes! You can fix him!” 

Hermione smiled at Ruby’s honesty and stored away the information to consider later. She was far from sober and much too much had happened today to be thinking about Draco Malfoy’s loneliness or her ability to fix it. 

“Well, I hope I make a good addition to the household,” Hermione said awkwardly to Ruby and Ruby cried more. 

“Mistress is so kind already. So kind! Ruby cannot wait to tell the others yes!” she sniffled. “But Miss must be sleepy. Ruby will leave you,” and she courtseyed her way out of the room. 

“Anything you be needing, just snap. I will come, yes!” Hermione was still kneeling, staring in the wake of the elf. She wondered what other interesting things Ruby could tell her about Draco Malfoy. 

She stood, taking in the room one more time. The Manor really was something else. At least this room didn’t remind her of the past. She kicked off her shoes and shimmed out of the beautiful dress. She went to the third drawer of the dresser and pulled on her new pajamas. She managed to get to the bed and under the covers before looking at the ring on her finger again. 

It was still a dull silver and the emptiness of Malfoy’s magic was still lingering. It was so strange. She reached her other hand over and pulled on the metal. There was no give. She pulled harder, but nothing seemed to move it. She huffed her frustration and rolled over. Maybe it was just a fluke, this thing with the ring, she thought as the weight of sleep finally made itself known.

She used her wand to draw the curtains over the windows and to lower the lights. The only light she left was the glow of the embers to the fire. Her eyes were starting to close as she noticed her work bag, stuffed with papers, sitting on one of the chairs. She smiled at Ruby’s thoughtfulness, or maybe it was Malfoy’s.

...

Hermione woke early the next day, the sun illuminating beautiful shapes on the blue and gold walls. Her head felt splitting as she blinked at the decor. It was like she had forgotten the splendor of the room amidst the alcohol and tension of the previous night. But she guessed living in Malfoy Manor she would have to gain accustomed to the luxury. 

The minute she climbed out of the soft blue sheets she felt her stomach roll. She felt awful and she owed it to all the drinks Ginny shoved at her and the fire whiskey on top of that. The curtains of the french doors and all the windows drew themselves as she moved. It would have been fantastic magic if she had the mental capacity to appreciate it. 

She could smell the coffee before she saw it on the table by the fireplace as she eased her way towards it. The house elves had laid out an entire spread of scones and fresh fruit alongside a large mug of coffee and a sobriety potion. She smiled gratefully and drank it down. Her headache vanished along with the uneasiness in her stomach. She grabbed a cranberry scone and took a bite. 

Her work bag was still sitting on one of the chairs and she eyed it with apprehension. After the events of last night and news of the Clarity Project, it was as if the war was starting all over again. She didn’t want more hardship; the marriage law was bad enough without actual evil lurking behind it. 

Work seemed inconsequential unless she could connect any of her current cases to the Clarity Project. The werewolf pack was suspicious, she considered as she gnawed the scone. She knew how important Fenrir Greyback and his minions had been to Voldemort during the war. And he was still at large. Maybe there was something there.

She needed more resources, she thought as she finished the scone and walked towards one of the french doors. She looked out to the small balcony beyond. The grounds of Malfoy Manor were very well kept, neat gardens laid out with seasonal flowers and beautiful bushes. Hedges ran the length of the property and circled about in dizzying patterns with white stone paths. She could just make out a stone fountain with a unicorn throwing its head in the water. She chuckled at the lavishness. 

She drank her coffee and then she went to the bathroom to shower. The steam filled the marble space and it felt amazing on her anxious nerves. She wrapped herself in a white towel and went to the closet. She picked from one of her four outfits, making a note to get the rest of her things transferred from her flat. 

Speaking of, she realized her flat and her lease were now useless if she was expected to just up and move here to the Manor. It sort of made her mad that that was the expectation. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized the rings and whatever magic bound them probably wouldn’t like it if they were apart. She was going to have to get used to the grandeur of the Manor. 

While her flat had hardly been big enough for herself, it had been hers. She was going to miss the corner bookstore and the delicious thai food down the street. Maybe she’d keep her flat, for the nights she worked late or when she inevitably fought with Malfoy and wanted to be out of his hair completely. 

Or perhaps just in case all hell did break loose. It seemed like it was bound to. She reached for her gray sweater and caught sight of the scar along her arm. She paused, staring at the big, jagged letters that never really looked like they healed. She inhaled sharply. Most of the time she glamoured them, like last night, so others didn’t really notice unless they knew to look for them. 

But the glamours had worn off and the letters stood there in Bellatrix’s icy scrawl, a daunting reminder. Hermione sighed again. Despite the beauty and exquisite renovations Malfoy claimed the Manor had undergone, nothing would erase the tragedy that clung to its foundation. She had the proof of that. She took a couple deep breaths. 

She wanted so much to put the past behind her, for her sake and Draco’s. Maybe that’s what Ruby had meant when she said Draco was lonely- the past never seemed to leave ex-death eaters alone. She worried about old prejudices and if Malfoy truly had cast them away. He seemed to have changed, but what did she really know of him since the war? 

Malfoy had nearly fallen off the face of the magical world after the war until his trial, she recalled. She knew he hadn’t been sent to Azkaban and had been found not guilty for most of his supposed crimes. She didn’t know what he did to repay the ones he had been found guilty of. 

Then from articles in the Prophet she had learned that he had become head of Malfoy Enterprise two years ago, but she still didn’t know exactly what his company did to make their money. He also was frequently in the social columns, Rita Skeeter eating up the generation’s young eligible bachelor. She rolled her eyes for even reading those.

And well, Draco himself had been nice, sort of. In the elevator at the Ministry and at the Ceremony. Their first night as a couple he had been both flirtatious and confusing, but never did he bring up any of his old family values. In fact, he had skirted past them when she mentioned her blood then.

Was she really a good match for him?, she considered as she got dressed. The compatibility charms weren’t supposed to lie; it almost worried her. What if Luna was right and someone had somehow tampered with the rings and the Goblet...

Or what if nothing was tampered with and they truly were compatible? Last night Draco had joked about trying to make her fall for him in another life… would this be his chance to try? And would she end up falling?

It wasn’t as if her previous relationships had been lackluster. Ron had been fun for a while and she’d gone out with Viktor and a few men from work a handful of times since their break up. But they were comfortable men who had been easy to date. Draco Malfoy was a different kind of man altogether. She hoped she was ready.

She pulled on her shorts and went back to the bathroom to comb her hair. It still had a tendency to bush out as it dried and when she looked in the mirror she could see the telltale signs. She quickly drew her wand and used a charm to calm it into nice curls. When she was satisfied she went back to the table to grab another scone and her work bag. 

Her mind continued to swim with memories of their recent interactions as she headed for the stairs. She thought about last night and the challenging way he spoke. In the hallway, the door at the top of the stairs was still closed. She could see sunlight pouring from the crack at the floor, so anyone sleeping had to be awake. She looked away quickly and headed down. 

She stared up at the glittering chandelier that hung several feet long in the high ceiling. Technically this is your house now, she thought to herself wildly as she reached the entryway. Her curiosity flowed as she spied the adjacent corridor and how it continued on forever. She would give anything to explore all the rooms, the secret passages, and the library until they were no longer unfamiliar. The private library of Malfoy Manor dated back centuries. She bit her lip thinking of all the ancient magic there. 

But she held back, trying to ignore the anxiety waiting in the back of her mind. You couldn’t ever build enough walls around trauma memories, even when you were as good at Occlumency as she was. She didn’t want to know what it would be like to accidentally find herself in the drawing room or stumble into the dungeons and feel that dirt under her fingernails again. A shiver found its way down her back, the ghost of past panic attacks. 

She glanced at her sleeve, where the scarred letters lay hidden and sighed. At least she and Draco had something in common there. The study from last night would be best. Until Malfoy could show her the library. At least she knew where the study was. She had to get started on figuring this whole thing out. 

She followed the hallway back down to where she remembered the door was. When she pushed it open, she looked around at the familiar white chairs and fireplace. In the corner by the windows stood the beautiful wood desk and she smiled. Morning sun spilled onto its top for the perfect work lighting- she had been right about that. She walked over and set down her bag. 

When she had all her files out and organized and her ink, quill, and spare parchment ready, she looked around the room one last time before sitting. More scones and another cup of coffee had appeared on the table between the armchairs, possibly while she had been organizing. She hadn’t remembered seeing it when she walked in. Maybe it was Ruby, she smiled thoughtfully. She’d have to thank the elf later. 

She walked over to grab more coffee but almost dropped the cup. Next to the tray was a simple silver ring. Hermione paled. It was Draco’s, right where it had been the night before when he had slipped it off with a casual smile. It sat there, simple, mocking. 

None of it matters, she told herself as she snatched up the cup and quickly turned back to her work. She sat and took up her quill, opening the first file. She began glancing over her old notes, rereading the highlights and underlines with renewed interest as she tugged again at her own ring. It still wouldn’t move.

…

Draco hated having to work on the weekends. It was why he had appointed and trained the few people he trusted to fill his duties when he wasn’t there. So when they did owl him, it had to mean something was going very well or terribly wrong. He always hoped it was the former and not the latter. 

Either way he was annoyed but at least going into the offices meant he could pull files for Granger to look at. He stopped by three different departments before he had the ones he wanted and by that time, his secretary had returned with the bouquet of flowers he requested. 

He smiled to himself as he flooed home with all his materials, considering it quite funny how frequently he used her surname, even to himself. She was a Malfoy now, after all and he loved to remind her of that. Maybe he would put his ring back on beforehand, just so he could feel her anger when he said it. 

He stepped back into the entryway, greeted by Ruby. She tried to insist he eat breakfast, since he had been up so early but he brushed her off. When he asked where his wife was, Ruby directed him to the study with a curtsey. He thanked her and turned on his heel. 

When he got to the doorway something made him pause. The sight of Hermione Granger using his study, the desk overflowing with papers was something out of a dream. She was clearly in her element and it made him smile as he took in the scene. 

Hermione had long since abandoned the chair, opting for sitting on the floor beside all the extra papers that didn’t fit on the desk. One of her legs was curled up beside her chest as she nibbled the end of a quill. He stared at her lips a little longer than he wanted, mesmerized as the sun bounced off her bright cheeks. 

He felt his magic give a bit of a jerk under his skin and glanced to the table, his ring still sitting there waiting, almost glowing. He shook his head; it was nothing. He started to walk into the room and realized Hermione was already staring back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone resort to using the floor when they run out of table space,” he chuckled, eying the papers in front of her. “But it is you we are talking about.” 

Her cheeks seemed to redden as she eyed him up and down. He was wearing what looked like a cross between a muggle suit and wizard’s robes. Something one would wear to work. Something Draco Malfoy would wear to work. 

“My office desk is twice this size,” she scoffed as she took a look around for her coffee cup. “But depending on the case, I do this on occasion. It helps,” she lifted another folder and found the mug. “To organize my thoughts.” The coffee was cold when she brought it to her lips. She searched around for her wand, unsure why she was telling Malfoy all about her work habits.

Draco saw it on the desk and snatched it up. He handed it to her and she placed the tip on the bottom, warming the cup and its contents in seconds. “You do realize you’re still a witch, right? You could always enlarge the desk. It’s not like this room isn’t going to accommodate a larger one,” Draco mused. 

She eyed him with irritation and didn’t say anything. It was actually annoying not being able to feel her emotions through her magic, he realized then. He couldn’t decide if she wanted him there or was ready to curse him. But there it was again, his magic itching to reach her. He ventured a little closer and she paused at his approach.

“You’re up early,” she tried as he leaned back onto the desk. He crossed his arms over his chest, still holding the files and the flowers. Her eyes widened when she saw them before she darted them away. A smirk played on his lips. 

“I make it a point to all my employees that I do not like working on the weekends,” he explained, “so naturally they save everything that can go wrong for Saturday and Sunday,” he gave her a smile. “Apparently I need to be more specific about the definition of ‘emergency.’” 

A chuckle escaped Hermione’s lips and Draco watched her with interest. “Anyway, going into the office does prove beneficial, for you at least,” and he placed the crisp set of files in front of her. She eyed them greedily. 

“All of my current information on the Clarity Project as well as the latest whereabouts of Fenrir and the wolves and my father,” he gave her a slight bow at her obvious excitement. 

“Your company has access to all of this?” she questioned, opening the top file. Her eyes darted back and forth as she caught facts and dates, mentions of werewolf meetings long before those reported by the Aurors. 

“To an extent,” he stated. “Malfoy Enterprises consults for a diverse range, using the best witches and wizards in the world. These however,” he gestured to the files, “came from a private division of the company.”

When Hermione raised her eyebrows at this, he just shrugged. “You could say that after the war I felt I had an obligation to keep tabs on some of the more slippery of Voldemort’s players. The ones the Ministry couldn’t seem to hold onto or keep track of. I still have connections in some of the worst places, solely for their ability to provide information.”

Hermione nodded at his explanation. It was admirable of him, to say the least. And risky. “In this division... Do you have actual employees working for you? Do they understand what you are asking of them, by going after this kind of intel?” she asked. 

She was still pouring over the werewolf folder. There were records of numbers of individual lycanthropes, something that could only be known by being on the inside. This took way more risk than just the case studies she was working on. 

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. “The people working for me in this division are my most trusted and skilled, and they understand the risk involved. I do the job myself when I deem it necessary for the safety of my team.” 

Hermione’s eyes grew wide. “You go yourself?” 

“Ah, concerned are we?” Draco chided. “Not to worry my dear wife, I am still in one piece for you, at least thus far.” 

“I would be concerned even if we weren’t married,” she said annoyed. “Are you at least protecting yourself? Shielding your clothing, healing spells, choosing apparition points, these are basic things that will at least make it more safe. I don’t even have intel this good from the Aurors Malfoy, and they are trained professionals.” 

“Yes and I always make sure to tell the people I’m spying on that I’m actually trying to stop them too,” he joked. “It really helps.” She nearly hit him on the shin. 

“You’re just as bad as Harry,” she scoffed as she started writing notes furiously. 

Draco laughed. “Potter not giving a shit about the logistics? Doesn’t surprise me really. He’s fairly good at it improvising, if I recall.” 

“Of course he is. Usually with my help,” she said pointedly. Draco cocked an eyebrow. 

“And they say Slytherins are the ones with all the pride,” he chuffed. “But if it makes you feel any better, I will let you know the next time I decide to head out on my own for the good of the order.” 

She gave an annoyed smile. “Good. And thank you, for these,” she gestured to the files. 

“I know you’ll put them to good use,” he said easily. He was watching her follow his own notes on the werewolf reports with vigor. Her pointer finger glided over his sharp handwriting as she bit the quill again. He stopped himself from looking at her lips. 

“I hope everything here at the Manor has been to your liking,” he said casually. Hermione looked at him again. There was a hint of concern in his voice and she wasn’t sure he knew it. “Your room, breakfast? Ruby takes care of our family well.”

She eyed him curiously, cringing ever so slightly at the phrase our family. He seemed like he wanted to say more, but stopped himself. She smiled. “Yes actually, Ruby has been more than accommodating. But she did tell me it is you that I owe a thank you to, for having my belongings brought here. I can take care of myself fine, but... that was considerate of you Draco.” 

It was his turn to look away. Draco ignored the heat rising in his chest at the sound of his first name. “Of course, anything,” he said, standing up and straightening his collar. She stared at his hands as he fixed his jacket. They looked almost like they were shaking. She eyed the flowers still in his hand and looked back at her notes trying to focus. 

“I’m meeting my mother for lunch, but then I’ll be home later if you want to go over anything you find,” he said as he looked over the flowers. “She loves roses.” 

Hermione blushed; obviously the bouquet wasn't for her. That was just stupid. He looked up from the roses in his hands and their eyes met. A smirk spread across his face, like he could read her mind. 

“Enjoy the files,” he said as he walked out of the room. Hermione stared at her notes until she was sure he was gone.


	16. Death Eater Plans over Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Hermione looks at all the files and contemplates what this stupid Clarity Project bullshit is all about. And Draco drops in on dinner, just to rile things up with the Daily Prophet's latest article ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, but work has been hell and I've been busy and I couldn't get the flow I wanted towards the end but if I stare at these words any longer I'm going to toss the computer out the window :) 
> 
> Hopefully it's a nice thing to wake up to on a lazy Saturday 
> 
> ~enjoy~

Hermione read and wrote notes well into the next three hours. Ruby came in twice to offer her snacks and more coffee. She was so happy to see Hermione working and to get her whatever she wished, she nearly toppled the lamp off the end table as she backed away curtseying. It made Hermione’s heart warm and she nearly forgot the absent feeling of Draco’s magic that was growing slowly more constant since the morning. 

The file on the Clarity Project was by far the most informative. It detailed the members involved and where they had been researching. It was a facility Voldemort had maintained in France under the false identity of a rundown hotel. It had been burned down after the war. There were pictures of the ruins, dated days after the final battle.

There were scraps of old researching notes attached to the photographs. In what she was now assuming was Draco’s sharp handwriting, they had been recovered from the ash sometime last year. She wondered if Draco had been the one to retrieve them. 

There were many runes and she deciphered them easily. Usually when dark wizards used them it was for rituals or ancient magic rites; Hermione figured as much here with the Marriage Law. The runes could have been applied to the rings as some sort of binding. 

Malfoy had scribbled various reasons the researchers might need runes: blending magic, metalwork, magic binding, blood binds. Her stomach dropped at the last suggestion. She circled metalwork though and wrote down the only few facts she knew about the rings:

Made by the metalwork division in the Department of Mysteries  
Connects the pairs; will the connection grow stronger with time? Ehwaz, rune of steady progress, trust, an ideal partnership next to reversed Anzuz, meaning manipulation.  
Emotional connection embedded inside of the magical connection; part of the runic ritual? Why would death eaters want an emotional connection?  
Pairs notice when you take off the ring, eliminates connection; does that last forever? Is it related to blood status? (mine won’t come off now that Malfoy took his off…)

She stared at the last one she wrote for a while, twirling her own ring on her finger. It still wouldn’t budge. She didn’t want to admit this whole thing revolved around blood status again. She lifted her eyes up slowly to the table between the armchairs and her breath caught. Draco’s silver ring was gone. 

She stared at the spot where the ring should be. When had he picked it up? Had she simply not noticed he came back in or had he done it when he was still here? She couldn’t remember even looking over at the ring while he had been in the room, but maybe he grabbed it on his way out. Maybe it was just Ruby, tidying up.

Hermione tried to forget the rings as she turned back to the next piece of paper in the file. Malfoy might have picked the ring up but he hadn't put it on. Something made her believe she’d be able to tell when he did. She’d feel it. 

The paper she had in her hand was charred, the bottom half missing as a black edge ripped across. It appeared to be a number of formulas related to magical ability. There was arithmancy to calculate various kinds of magical power: transfiguration, healing, charms, defensive vs offensive spells, and many, many more. There was a numerical scale to rank the overall ability. A reference to a diagnostic spell was mentioned, but not by name. 

She found another page underneath, equally as burnt. It was a list of test subjects and their blood status. Under each name was a diagnostic of their magical abilities in great detail. Hermione paled as she read; each subject had a number in a small red box. Like their worth could be summarized so easily. 

The last bit that she could read had someone else’s messy handwriting across it. It was not Draco’s, which remained elegant even when he wrote quickly. She noted that in the werewolf folder. But some of the letters shared similarities and when she realized the capital M’s were almost identical she knew it had to be Lucius's. 

Lucius was questioning if blood status made a difference in magical ability. There were test subjects with “mudblood” written next to their name and those with “pureblood” written beside theirs. He wrote that it was worth looking into. He wrote asking if there was a possibility at purity extraction. 

Hermione could feel her hands shaking with anger. She set her quill down, lest she snap it in half. It was horrible. So much information to take in, ideals that she thought were behind them. She leaned back on her hands, realizing for the first time in hours that she was still on the floor. When she looked out the windows, the sun was starting to cloud over.

She sighed in annoyance. Had all this research just led to more questions? What was the plan with this diagnostic spell anyway? How did it work with none of them realizing and she was more than a little curious about each person’s magical signature being broken down into its parts- even if the death eaters did call it “purity.” 

And was extraction some kind of sick joke? She looked back at Lucius’s ugly handwriting and winced. She couldn’t imagine the idea of muggleborns having their magic stolen from them only to be redistributed to purebloods solely for power. That was just barbaric. And, no doubt, something the death eaters would not see fault in. She stood then, trying to calm her nerves of the horrible ideas flashing through her mind of what it could all mean. They needed more information and badly. 

Hermione walked to the window, seeing the gardens just beyond in the disappearing sun. Everything was washed in a gold that soaked the greenery and it reminded her of the gold robed witches and wizards at the Ceremony. She still didn’t know who they were either. 

Hermione was lost in the memories of the last 48 hours when the small sound of an elf startled her. Ruby stood just behind her heels and looked up with her big eyes, begging Hermione to take a break. When the elf reminded her it had been hours since she’d touched the scones, Hermione sighed and had to oblige. She really was getting hungry and maybe some food would calm her down, or at least take her mind off the Clarity Project for a while. 

She followed the elf to the kitchen, which was much too large and much too white. Save for the cabinets, which were a rich dark green, the whole place looked bright and snowy. Hermione almost laughed at the golden sink, until she remembered that the sink in her bathroom was gold too. 

Ruby was more than willing to get whatever meals Hermione requested and it was almost overwhelming. By the time Ruby had finally curtseyed her way out, Hermione was seated at the large marble counter with a dozen plates of food to feed a family. 

She was halfway through a plate when Draco walked in from a side door she hadn’t even noticed. “Didn’t even wait for me?” he smiled as he took off his cloak and threw down a mangle of folded papers. It perked Hermione's curiosity but when she looked more closely at it, she froze. It was a copy of the Sunday edition of the Daily Prophet.

Draco walked to the sink. He washed his hands and dried them with a silent spell before turning to look at the food. He snatched up a roll. He didn’t sit down but instead stood opposite her, picking the bread apart. She stared at the paper with trepidation.

"Was Ruby kind enough to spare you from the Prophet's mudslinging?" He inquired, taking a bite and smirking. 

Hermione frowned. "In all the craziness I honestly forgot the myriad of reporters that were there last night." 

"Well, I can save you the read, if you like. We didn't even make the front page," he said with a fake frown and an air of his old snark, trying to get her to at least smile. She didn't. 

"Harry and Ginny are obviously going to be on the front page Malfoy, it makes sense when you consider the scope of the situation. It’s Harry we are talking about, he’ll always be..." she began, until it clicked Malfoy had been joking. His chuckling gave him away. She narrowed her eyes. 

"I know that Granger. No doubt Potter and his blushing bride are all over it. Six pictures. Six!” he widened his eyes incredulously. “But I guess their pairing isn't something of a scandal, like ours," he said, his voice holding the smallest bit of jealousy. 

Hermione considered his comments with a sigh. "Why does it have to be a scandal? That hardly seems applicable when you consider we didn't have a choice in the matter."

Draco shrugged. "You could argue that we did, at least in terms of compatibility,” he paused and she rolled her eyes. “Don’t forget that part of it. You helped create this,” he gestured between the two of them with a smile. 

“But the Prophet definitely sees it as a scandal,” he continued, taking a bite and swallowing. “The picture they chose alone is enough, but with the title overhead... Let me see, how did they word it again? Ah yes, ‘Golden Trio Member Gryffindor’s Princess Matches with Pureblood Former Death Eater.’ You'd think that would warrant a full page to ourselves. No, we had to share with the Weasel and Daph.” 

He smirked again at her. She gave a disgusted look. "Can’t you at least use his surname?” she sighed. “And they always have to mention the trio part. What I wouldn’t kill to be Hermione Granger, brightest witch of our age again.” 

“That’s Hermione Malfoy now,” Draco smiled, ignoring her first request. “But you’ll always be the brightest witch of our age, love. At least to me. That, and the insufferable know-it-all, as Rita so kindly calls you. Practically endearing, that.” 

Hermione sneered. “Someone should take away Skeeter's journalist license. Or better yet, we should get her a pet ferret, that would shut her up,” Hermione reasoned, aggression in her tone. 

Draco paused with a bite halfway to his mouth. "What the hell do you need a ferret for?" Hermione realized the color in his face seemed to seep away. 

"They're carnivorous, known to eat insects on occasion and they're already domesticated so it would be an easy solution to the problem compared to say, a raccoon and- what?" Hermione was so caught up explaining that she hardly could comprehend why Draco was suddenly so uncomfortable. He had gone stiff when the memory caught up with her suddenly. Her eyes grew wide and she couldn't stop the laughter from escaping her lips. 

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry Malfoy. I totally forgot about the- the-" and she couldn't finish. The laughter started low in her throat and billowed out in waves. After all the negativity in her research today, it was good to find something humorous. 

Draco glared. "That was traumatizing, I do hope you realize." When that didn't stop her, he crossed his arms over his chest. "And I still don't understand why bringing up ferrets even pertained to Rita Skeeter and her insane, if not minimally flattering, articles. Aren’t you the least bit curious about what she had to say? About the picture?”

Hermione finally calmed her laughter, feeling the slightest movement of magic nearby. She eyed Draco instinctively, but his stance was still rigid. The feeling was gone as quick as it had come and she blinked in its aftermath. My, was he was being insistent. 

“Skeeter is an unregistered animagus, a beetle,” she explained then. “I found her 4th year. It's how she managed to write all those horrendously inflated articles about Harry, Viktor, and I." 

Draco nodded. "Now that is a great piece of information to have in your back pocket. And it explains why Skeeter is so skeptical about you.” 

Draco watched her, hopeful. Hermione absentmindedly moved some vegetables around her plate and twirled a curl near her face. When she still didn’t move towards the paper he finally spoke. “You really don’t want to read it?” his voice twinged with annoyance.

Hermione shrugged. “It’s rubbish, like always. What hasn’t she accused me of?” She knew Rita Skeeter’s rhetoric well. Enough to know it wasn’t going to be particularly kind. Draco decided to drop it.

They sat in silence for a while and Draco found his own gaze lingering again and again on the pages folded up between them. He knew what it said. And he couldn’t get his mind to stop dwelling on it.

Rita Skeeter had certainly been curious about the match, but not in the way Draco had expected. Most of her words focused on his tragic childhood, as if he were some redeemable character in the narrative. Skeeter seemed to favor him over Hermione, not that Skeeter didn’t mention his shortcomings with the death eaters. 

But she made it a point to recount Granger’s misdeeds, 4th year and with Weasley, all the times she’d fought against the Wizengamot. There was only a brief mention of a small chunk of Granger’s accolades. He had felt insulted for her when he read it. 

It was the end that got to him though. Skeeter let her speculation get away from her. She ended her piece questioning the longevity of the match. She went so far as to wonder if Hermione would remain loyal or somehow sabotage it in the name of retribution. The thought made him cringe all over again. 

He would have liked to hear Hermione’s insight; it would be better than all the doubt. And as much as he hated to admit it, it would have been nice to have her reassurance that she wasn’t going to leave. Not that he’d blame her if she did. But it would feel like they were somehow in it together- oh right. Technically they were. He sighed.

They were married for less than 48 hours and he didn’t know why he cared so much. About the article, her opinion about it, her opinion about him. But the worry in the back of his mind had grown steady since he read the article this morning. 

And not to mention the picture. That was something he just couldn’t get over. He wanted her to see it more than he wanted her to read the article. And while he was stuck wondering yet again how a photographer managed to capture that exact moment, Granger changed the subject. 

“How was lunch with your mother?” Hermione asked, trying to come up with something to fill the awkward quiet. She wondered if they talked about her. She thought about the roses and suddenly wished she hadn’t said anything.

“Oh you know, yelling, torture, the usual,” he mused, glad of something to think about besides the newspaper. Granger narrowed her eyes. “She actually said she felt sorry for you, having to put up with me. What a thing to say to your own son.” 

Hermione laughed. “I appreciate that somehow.” 

Draco smirked as he summoned a glass of whiskey. “You’re cruel, Granger. She did praise the match however, and I’m still trying to figure out if that’s a good thing,” his eyes lifted up to hers like molten silver as he put his lips to the cup. He eyed her and felt his magic give a jolt. 

Hermione felt her face grow hot. Her magic prickled under her skin again as if it could sense Draco was near. Draco was watching her and she grew restless. “So I read through all the files.” 

“Of course you did,” Draco said. “And?” 

“Well we need to figure out the diagnostic spell so we can see how it was used on all of us. If it was combined with the runes then… it’s fairly binding. I’m guessing that’s what’s affecting the rings. But the runes are contradicting. I’m not sure if it is to strengthen the power of the magic or to give one control over the other or even to ensure an heir is produced. It’s complicated magic, runic rituals. I need the complete set.” 

Draco almost choked while chewing. “An heir?” he seemed to stall on the words, disbelieving them coming from his own mouth. “I mean, I know that was a part of the Clarity Project’s goals originally but now… that's practically barbaric. Plus it doesn’t fit. Not when you consider Theo and Cormac, Pansy and Luna. The death eaters wouldn’t have a plan for heirs and gays.”

Hermione looked as equally perturbed. “The only thing I can think of is our compatibility work. Since whoever started this didn’t plan on additional magic being there, the differences in the magic could have led to all kinds of changes. Specifically that with the type of sex being paired or…” she paused to guage Draco’s reaction. He seemed unsure how to react. “blood statuses.” 

Draco looked more pale. “No doubt if my father’s behind this he wasn’t trying to marry his only son off to a muggleborn, no matter how amazing at magic you are.” While Draco’s comment was off hand and not meant to flatter, Hermione couldn’t help but feel her cheeks redden the slightest bit. It was practically annoying.

Draco ran a hand through his hair. “We’ll have to speak with Pansy. I’m not sure if she has any access to the Parkinson Estate or any of her mother’s old work, but if she does... Was there anything to go off of for that diagnostic spell?” 

Hermione shook her head. “There were all those complex arithmancy formulas,” Hermione was mentally going through her notes. “Again, it wasn’t complete. There are sections for each magical speciality, you’d have to get the spellwork just right to produce the desired results. And your father hinted at extracting the magic of individuals, muggleborns specifically and I..."

Her voice trailed away and Draco's jaw tightened. Hermione tried to hide her own uneasiness. “I’d need more to analyze to know for sure,” she said quietly. Draco set his glass down too hard and Hermione saw he still wasn’t wearing his ring. She almost frowned but stopped herself. It didn’t matter. Her magic flickered. 

“To know if he was successful, is what you mean,” he said coolly. Hermione gave a solemn nod. He sighed.

“I did ask my mother to see if my father left anything behind. She’s in an old Malfoy property, moves around often so he can’t trace her, but he loved to hide things.” Draco looked around the room curiously. “I’ve combed over the Manor dozens of times, but I’m still not sure I’ve gotten everything.” Hermione went back to the plate in front of her. Leave it to Lucius Malfoy to be as crazy as his plans. 

The sun out the window behind Draco was gone and grey clouds replaced it. It was nearly six o’ clock as Hermione began absentmindedly cleaning up the muggle way. Draco watched her with the utmost curiosity. He was still too busy considering the stupidity of someone, most likely his father, bringing the Clarity Project to light, to remind her of the house elves. 

Three elves popped out of nowhere then, taking plates and forks right out from Hermione’s hands and reach. She sighed in annoyance and was about to ask the elves if they could at least let her help when she caught sight of Draco again.

He had his arm crossed and his chin in his hand, rubbing his jaw. It looked as if he was trying to stop it from breaking. His eyes looked darker than before as he stared off, distracted. Hermione watched, a part of her compelled to understand. She stood and took a step towards him. Her magic simmered just under her skin, enjoying their proximity. "Was… was he always awful?" She asked quietly. 

Draco turned his eyes towards her slowly. They were still dark. "Unfortunately, yes."

Draco was quiet. He stayed that way so long that Hermione worried she'd said the wrong thing. Maybe it was too early in their relationship, or whatever this was, for her to be asking such intimate questions. Or to be worried she was asking. Besides, she didn’t understand what it was like to live under the roof of a villain. 

But when he still hadn’t said any more, hadn’t moved, Hermione couldn't take it. Maybe she had pissed him off or worse, maybe he was about to explode. She turned to leave, not wanting to find out which. 

Then his voice drifted to her slow, softer than she expected. "You know, I never knew if he truly was imperiused in the first war, even for a little while. Part of me wanted to believe he was. That he was so fucked up because of a messed up curse. But now... I think he was just born fucked up. And that's probably worse." 

Hermione turned back towards him. Malfoy was running a hand through his blonde hair, his eyes a murky mess. It was such a subconscious act and yet he looked so much like Harry then, the nerves taking over. The constant worry that his father was involved was hidden well. But if Hermione looked hard enough she could see the subtle signs. And she could tell he blamed himself. It made Hermione's chest ache. 

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly but he turned away. Her magic reached out without her even trying, only to still find his walls in place. She sighed and was at the doorway ready to go. Her magic sank away and she felt a pang of that same separation between them because of the rings. The files and research had kept it away, and his proximity while they ate. Now, across the room and brooding, it was all she could feel.

His grey eyes shot over to hers like he noticed, but she didn’t see it. When she did look up, his eyes were hesitant for just a moment. Almost like he wanted to ask her to stay and then thought better of it. 

"Thank you for looking over the files,” Draco said curtly. He straightened and gazed back over to her. 

“Thanks for bringing them for me,” she said. “I wish there was more. We need more.” She looked away, like she was contemplating going back to the study, to a library, anywhere for more information. She wondered what was going through his mind. If he was still thinking about his father and all his guilt. 

“And there’s the Granger from Hogwarts,” Draco chided, wondering why he had the desire to keep her talking.

She turned slowly and quirked an eyebrow. “I thought it was Malfoy now,” she said. Her lips curved up the slightest bit as she turned to leave. 

Draco didn’t say anything back, a small smile playing on his lips.


	17. A Slytherin with a Good Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes back to work only to find the Ministry is starting to fall to shit, Harry brings mysterious news tied to the Clarity Project, and dinner with Draco isn't the worst she thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, I did not expect this fic to get as popular as it is becoming. Thank you to all who have been reading and commenting. It means so much to me and I can't believe how giddy I get seeing comments in my inbox after a chapter goes up. Hopefully you'll continue to enjoy the journey of our lovely little couple :)

The weeks following the Joining Ceremony were nothing less than chaotic. The winds dragged across the hills and through the trees with reckless abandon. The sun was desperately trying to warm up the afternoons, with little chance of success. And it reflected the thoughts and emotions of almost everyone affected by the law. 

Hermione found herself suddenly swamped at work. The influx of leads from the Aurors seemed to be never ending. The pile on her desk was growing bigger all the time, listing more muggleborn attacks or missing persons. She snatched up any spare moment to research leads on the origins of the Marriage Law and what could possibly be at stake for them all in the underspoken magic. 

The first week, she tried to get in to see Kingsley no less than six times. And for the sixth time, she was denied. He was apparently booked up through the next month and half, at least that’s what one of three gold robed wizards outside his office said to her. She scowled at him in her frustration and he held up his wand in front of him like she might hex him. The other two glared back, wands raised. She left, angry. 

By Thursday, none of the Wizengamot members would take her up on her owls for meetings to discuss the Marriage Law. One even sent a laughing howler back. She was fuming by the time she stormed into the Family Affairs office. She wanted to meet with Tonya Woll and Benjamin Tury, the Ministry officials from Kingsley’s meeting where he broke the news of the law. But they were nowhere to be found. 

An annoyed looking receptionist told Hermione that Tonya was out of the country for the next three weeks, doing population studies on the giants in Minsk. And he merely rolled his eyes when Hermione asked about Benjamin. Apparently there was no one by that name working in the Family Affairs office. Hermione stood there stunned for a good few minutes before two more golden robed wizards asked her to leave. 

She was so annoyed with it all that by the time she got home to the Manor, she nearly chewed Malfoy’s head off for asking her if she’d like to have dinner together. He stared at her with a haughty expression reminiscent of his Hogwarts days before Hermione offered a weak apology. His offer had taken her so off guard, she merely followed him to the dining room without another word. 

On the following Wednesday, Hermione finally picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet on her way in, wondering if there would be anything useful hidden amongst the muck. There wasn’t. There was, however, a photo of Theo and Cormac arm and arm attending a St. Mungo’s Research Symposium, a story about the Wizengamot deliberating on another move to change the apparition age, and another charming article by Rita Skeeter about Harry and Ginny and Ron and Daphne that was most probably speculation. 

Hermione had skimmed all of these before entering the lifts and flipped to the third page. There she spied a photo of Pansy Parkinson with her hand on Blaise Zabini’s arm, a headline claiming he was cheating on his new wife in downtown London. He had been paired with Marietta Edgecombe. 

That one made her laugh. Pansy and Luna didn’t have a perfect marriage, but they sure seemed much more content than the others. And Blaise didn’t strike her as the type to decline such a lovely bride as Marietta, half-blood with a few scars or not. She was laughing to herself when she opened her office door. 

Harry was already there waiting for her in the chair opposite her desk. His usually well kept Auror robes looked worse for wear and a frown was on his face. He gave her a smile when she closed the door behind her, but it was replaced with the unsettling look from before the minute she made her way inside. 

“Morning Hermione,” he said as she rounded the desk and sat, throwing the Prophet into the trash. She waved her wand at her coat and bag. The bag unpacked itself neatly onto her desk and then went to hang itself with her coat by the door. She snatched up a quill and began scribbling down a note. 

“Harry. It’s good to see you. Please tell me, are you and Ginny going on a double honeymoon with Ron and Daphne just to cover up a pregnancy? Rita and her fans are dying to know,” she mused, and when Harry gave her a confused look, she nodded to the trash can where she’d thrown the Prophet.

“Rita gets worse and worse with all this,” Harry stated. “Is that the first one you’ve read this week? Because on Tuesday there was a great article about how you might be turning Malfoy Enterprises into a muggle education program.” Harry raised his eyebrows at her in mock shock. 

Hermione blinked. “You’ve got to be kidding me. She comes up with the most outrageous stories. Although that’s not the worst idea...” 

Harry laughed. “Well, it wasn’t without evidence. War Orphan Outreach just got a nice financial boost. Not to mention additional staffing they so desperately needed. Rumor has it that it’s from Malfoy Enterprises.” 

Hermione’s jaw seemed to drop at this. War Orphan Outreach was one of her most prized organizations. While she didn’t directly run it anymore, she was a key figure in getting the program up and running after the war. It was a program designed to locate and rehome magical children that were orphaned, missing, or in hiding from the war. 

She felt a sudden wave of appreciation for Malfoy’s actions. She wondered if it had anything to do with their conversation this past weekend about binds and heirs and proving to her the marriage was something he wanted. He never even mentioned it. 

“Well, I guess I need to thank him,” she managed. She stared at her hands on her desk, looking at the dull silver ring that bound her. She considered what it meant that Draco Malfoy decided to help out a bunch of war orphans, most of which were muggleborns. She almost smiled. 

“Hermione,” it was Harry, pulling her back to reality. “While I love getting to see you and laugh over Rita’s articles, there’s... another reason I’m here,” his features grew grave.

Hermione pushed away her thoughts about Malfoy. “Don’t say another muggleborn has gone missing,” she frowned as she glanced at the pile of reports to her left. 

“Thankfully no,” Harry said, still frowning. “But not any happier news I’m afraid. I got an owl from Ernie this morning. He’s been put on administrative leave.” 

Hermione’s jaw tightened. “You can’t be serious. Who ordered it? And what was their reasoning?” 

Harry sighed. “He said it was signed by a member of the Wizengamot, Earl something or other, one of those real old blokes we couldn’t get out,” the irritation hung on Harry’s voice. 

“As to the why, well he was looking into the rings because Luna asked him. He said he only approved of the magical trace that’s in them, not the connection part that you and Malfoy experienced,” Harry explained. 

Hermione tried not to wince at this news. “We’re not the only ones experiencing it though, right? Luna said her and Pansy felt a connection. And don’t lie to me Harry Potter, you and Ginny have something. I can just tell.” 

Harry hid his embarrassment behind a small, nervous chuckle. “Okay, okay. Yes, we seem much more connected than before. It’s like, I don’t know, our magic is intertwined,” he absentmindedly twisted the ring on his finger. “I can feel what she feels. Not exact emotions, but... it’s definitely something. And I think it’s getting stronger.” 

He looked into Hermione’s eyes then, looking for some kind of confirmation that it was all real. She looked nervous.

“That’s what Malfoy and I have too, or at least had,” Hermione said, looking down at her own ring. It stared back at her, silver and mocking. 

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean, had?” 

It was Hermione’s turn to sigh. “He took the damn thing off.” 

Harry’s jaw dropped open. “What do you mean, he took it off?”

“He physically took the ring off his finger, Harry! Merlin!” Hermione’s hand was in a fist on her desk. An aching pain was making its way down her arm towards the fist where the ring was. It was growing much too constant now, the absence of his magic. Most days she ignored it, but when she didn’t...

“Didn’t he think of the consequences? We have no idea what these rings can do! He’s going to end up hurting you by doing this, Hermione!” Harry said then, his tone growing angier. 

“Calm down Harry. He’s not trying anything. He just... did it to prove a point, one up me. I told him he’s jealous of Ron and that set him off,” Hermione told him, recalling the drunken conversation so many days ago. 

“And I was even trying to be nice to him at the Ceremony. Maybe that conversation we had in the bathroom was just a manipulation tactic,” Harry was deep into his own thoughts now. Hermione could see his mind turning, trying desperately to fit together all the pieces of some plan he assumed Malfoy was hatching. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry. Malfoy and I are fine. We barely see each other, and when we do, he’s cordial. Nice even.” Harry’s eyes were disbelieving. “I’m not saying we’re winning any couple of the year awards, geez it’s been a week and a half, but I promise, he’s been nothing but kind.” 

Harry seemed taken aback by this claim. “But he still took it off. That’s saying something Hermione, and you know it,” Harry insisted. 

“Yes. It means he’s smart enough to realize it’s dangerous of all of us to even wear these things if we don’t know what they do!” she gestured to the ring still on her finger. Did she just compliment his intelligence? she realized. And he wasn’t even here to gloat about it. She almost chuckled. 

“But it also means- hang on,” Harry paused, blinking at her ring. “How come you still have yours on then?” Hermione flinched. 

“Hermione,” Harry pressed.

Hermione looked away. “I- I can’t get it off.” Her voice was quiet. Harry stared at her, his eyes wide. 

“That’s not good,” he said miserably. “That’s not good at all.” 

“I know,” Hermione said and she tugged on the ring again. “It’s why I was anxious to hear what Ernie had to say. He owled me after Luna spoke with him. Asked what he should be looking for. I told him to find out who worked on the rings and if anything looks amiss. Blueprints, traces of charms, anything. If it’s connected to the Clarity Project, we need to know.” 

The color from Harry’s face disappeared. “Clearly someone doesn’t want Ernie meddling.” Hermione nodded. “This is bad Hermione. If they sent him home just for asking questions…” a stiffness overtook Harry’s features. He ran a hand through his hair. “Not good at all…”

Harry sat aghast, tugging at his own ring. His movements caught Hermione’s eyes and she watched. It wouldn’t budge. 

...

By the time Friday finally came, Hermione was exhausted and spinning her wheels. She was now digging into the employee archives in an attempt to locate this Benjamin Tury and his stupid bloodline analyst position. And anything she could find on workers in the Department of Metalwork. 

She worked well into the late afternoon to uncover backlogs from the first and second wars. Apparently bloodline analysts were very popular when Thicknesse was playing puppet Minister to the death eater regime. Hermione looked at the reports with disgust and took them with her anyway. 

It was just past 6 when she finally forced herself to put her work away. She was tired and hadn’t made nearly the progress she’d wanted. She needed more. And she needed a break. She flooed back to the Manor in a rush, tossing her work bag on the floor. She walked right to the study and to the liquor cabinet. 

“That bad of a week?” the sound of Malfoy’s voice nearly made her drop her glass as she turned. 

His face was drawn in a quiet smile but his eyes were that unreadable grey. He was still wearing his work clothes, another wizard's robe muggle suit hybrid that looked much too good on him. Or maybe Hermione had just forgotten how handsome he was. She blinked at him before pouring herself a drink. This was their first interaction in three days. 

Not to say the small number of interactions they did have weren’t intriguing. Since the Ceremony she had seen Draco a handful of times, many of which were in passing on the way out the floo to work. But they had eaten dinner together on more than one occasion and it was actually pleasant. She never would have guessed Draco Malfoy would be a great conversationalist about transfiguration theory or potions law. 

And then there was coffee on the veranda. They’d happened upon each other out there several times now. The grounds were beautiful early in the morning, Hermione had to admit, even if it was getting colder. The last morning she saw him, Malfoy had actually complimented her on the success of her newest endeavor- closing the wage gap for lycanthropes, goblins, and vampires. It was interesting to hear him talk of laws he was passionate about. 

Tonight however, he sat with a smug sort of look that made Hermione rather annoyed. Maybe it had to do with the empty ache in her chest that seemed to get worse being this close to him. A small, icy pain crept down her arms. “This week has been hell.” 

Draco chuckled, taking her in as she walked over to sit on the armchair opposite him. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and her curls were pinned up. He noticed her wand was stashed in her hair. He smiled until he felt his magic rushing to reach out to her, practically pushing against his skin. 

Draco ignored the now familiar ache as he pulled back on his magic. “Ah, come now. Where’s the silver lining? Very un-gryffindor of you not to look for a bright side.” He shook the ice in his glass. 

“I think you’re thinking of a hufflepuff,” she said, watching him. 

Draco shrugged. “Guess you other houses all blend together in my mind. Bravery goes along with Gryffindor, you’re the lions, do I have that right?” he joked, managing a weak smile and an eye roll from her. 

“So, tell me about your day or the whole week I guess,” he mused.

Hermione stared at him. “You can’t be serious. You don’t really want to hear all about my shortcomings at the Ministry.” 

Draco took a sip of his drink. “What are spouses for otherwise?” 

“Many things,” Hermione reasoned. 

Draco shot her a curious look. “Well if that’s the case, you should at least ask me to dinner first Granger,” he smirked. Hermione felt her cheeks redden. 

“Not what I meant Malfoy,” her eyes narrowed into slits and she pouted, annoyed. 

Draco couldn’t help but look at her lips. He shrugged. “I hear sex is a great stress relief. I’m not going to say no if you choose that route. We are married and all.” 

Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She felt her mouth begin to hang open as he continued to watch her. His jaw was a sharp line against the curl of his fingers on his glass. She couldn’t tell if he was being serious, his eyes still a mask of grey. 

Not that she was planning on getting him in bed, it didn’t matter either way. But the fact he admitted some part of him was ready and willing made all the difference. Before today, she didn’t think Draco Malfoy had it in him to sleep with a muggleborn. She was learning something new about him every day. 

“So, what’ll it be? A conversation or would you like to finally see the inside of my bedroom?” Draco asked, eying her over the top of his glass. He wasn’t sure the cause of his boldness; his week had been equally as hectic, trying to balance the runnings of Malfoy Enterprise while also investigating more into his private sect seeking intel about his father. And she had become some sort of calm in the chaos of it all. He hadn’t seen her enough. He would blame it on that. 

Hermione watched his fingers curl on the glass and had to look away. She was curious about his room, but she wasn’t sure it was enough to get her naked. She sipped her own drink and then launched into a lengthy explanation of her week. 

She started off with Kinglsey and the Wizengamot avoiding her and her trip to the Family Affairs Office. Draco only flinched once at the recollection of Thicknesse’s need for bloodline analysts when she talked about searching the archives. He made a mental note to crosscheck Benjamin Tully with any death eater files. 

She continued on about all the muggleborn disappearances and the lack of information. She was starting to connect some of his intel on the werewolves to the missing persons. That was the only positive. She ended on Harry’s news of Ernie, leaving out the part where she discussed with Harry that Malfoy had taken his ring off. By that time, Draco was clearly uneasy. He stood and busied himself with getting the fire whiskey bottle. 

He did it the muggle way, much to Hermione’s surprise, so when he was suddenly in front of her, pouring her another, she startled. “So what did Macmillian find out? Anything? Or is he just as useless as always?” 

“That’s not very nice,” Hermione started, but Draco cut her off. 

“Yes, because that is a characteristic you’ve always used to describe me,” he stated, giving her a pretentious look. He filled her glass much more than she would have. 

Hermione sneered as he took a seat again. He placed the bottle on the table between them and she could see the ring was still nowhere in sight. Her annoyance triggered the ache in her magic. She tried to ignore it, but it came much too fast this time. Draco didn’t seem to notice. 

“I was going to go see him tomorrow actually. Now that he’s on leave, I can’t just pop down to the Department of Mysteries,” she explained. 

“Do you do that often, then?” he asked, a sudden wave of something equivalent to jealousy flooding his senses. His magic started curling under his skin, trying to get out. 

Hermione caught the aggression in his tone and chuckled. “No, I don’t. I’ve only gone down once to see Luna and they wouldn’t even let me in so,” she shrugged. “That’s the Department of Mysteries for you.” 

The tension in Malfoy’s shoulders seemed to drop. She eyed him curiously. Stupid bond. Even without the rings she could almost sense his annoyance. Maybe it had to do with their proximity, she reasoned. She watched him twirl the ice in his glass again. 

It was then that she noticed the table. Plates and silverware appeared from nowhere and in seconds, food. It materialized, more and more until the table was filled up and there was no more room for anything. The sweet smell of yams and roast and cranberries hung in the air and Hermione realized then she’d skipped lunch. 

“And your week? Equally as shitty?” she questioned then, and he eyed her knowingly. It was Malfoy’s turn to talk and he started to detail all the inner workings of Malfoy Enterprises he had to deal with this week as they helped themselves to dinner. 

Hermione finally found out what it was Malfoy Enterprises did; it was an odd combination of research and charity work, which surprised her yet again. The company made its money from selling successful new products, spell techniques, you name it. St Mungos was a big investor as well as purchaser. 

Draco talked freely and it was a refreshing change from his normal sarcasm. A change in deadlines made everyone scramble early in the week, another disruption in the communications with their American research team, and his own endeavors at gathering more intel for her. It was interesting but he didn’t make it a point to emphasize any particular bit. Nor did he share any of his plans for going out on his own for intel. 

He did mention all the paperwork for a few charities he was working on and Hermione’s eyes lit up. “Wouldn’t happen to be for War Orphan Outreach, would it?” 

Draco’s features grew bashful and it was incredibly attractive. He chuckled. “You are too smart for your own good, you know that? Who told you?” 

“Harry heard some rumors,” she smiled. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Saint Potter, of course.” 

“Why Malfoy, I believe your good side is showing,” she smiled back. “But thank you. That program means… so much to me.” 

Draco felt embarrassed for the first time in months, but he gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s nothing really.” His magic flared as she smiled at him. 

“No, it’s definitely something. Thank you,” Hermione said again with earnest. 

Their conversation seemed to lull after that and she found her gaze wandering around the room as they ate. There were sweet potatoes in sugar and green beans and steak. A pile of sweet dinner rolls and carrots in butter. Silver side dishes were piled with pasta. It was like a five star restaurant. 

Hermione ate slowly, trying not to upset her empty stomach. As she continued looking around the room, she finally settled on the picture that hung by the desk. It was the one she had seen on her first night here before Ginny had pulled her away. 

She squinted and she could see a young Draco, probably around 6 or 7 years old, jumping into a pile of leaves. Narcissa stood in the background, smiling fondly. The picture replayed over and over and she watched as his smile shrunk and grew every time he hurtled himself into the pile. 

Hermione didn’t notice her own smile until Draco spoke. “That’s one of my mother’s favorites,” he said, following her gaze. 

“She looks so happy,” Hermione said honestly, still staring at the frame. 

“She was,” Draco reasoned. 

“Was,” Hermione repeated, pulling her eyes away from the picture with a frown. Draco gave her a sad smile and nodded. 

The room had grown dark. Hermione hadn’t really noticed the sun setting behind Malfoy’s head as they’d talked. A small fire was burning nicely in the fireplace and warming up the dark corners of the room. It took him awhile before he spoke.

“The first war she didn’t really participate. She was in love though, and that drove her to do everything my father asked. She was happy, for a while at least.”

“She was doing what she thought she should,” Hermione reasoned and Malfoy frowned at her. 

“Love only goes so far. She loves me. She stopped loving my father,” he said and he set his empty plate on the table. He downed the rest of his glass. His eyes were growing dark. “But she stayed with him. She stayed on the dark side and through all the shit.” 

Hermione sighed. “She was doing it for you.” 

“Yes, but complacency isn’t heroic,” Draco stated firmly.

“And neither is blaming yourself,” she pointed out, raising her eyebrows at him. When he rolled his eyes, she laughed. “It’s true Malfoy. I see how you tense up every time we mention your father. It’s quite possible he’s involved, but it’s no fault of yours. You didn’t make him join the death eaters. You didn’t help him escape. It’s not like he’s your responsibility.” 

Draco seemed to mull this over. He was staring at the fire. “It’s just…” he paused, not sure if he should be honest. But maybe, with her, it was worth it. “As long as he’s tied to the Malfoy name, it’s me everyone will think of. It’s me that has to face society and… I’ve tried so hard.” 

He looked almost defeated suddenly. Hermione felt his magic jump and her eyes met his. “Why do you care so much about what people think?” she asked. 

“Same reason you do,” he said simply, “you wouldn’t read the Prophet. You wouldn’t look at the picture of us. It’s because some part of you cares how you are perceived. Brightest Witch of Her Age sounds so much better than whatever shit Rita’s throwing around. And it’s better than just being Potter’s sidekick.” 

Hermione huffed and drank the rest of her glass. She glared at Malfoy. It was so annoying that he was right. She didn’t want to see what the Prophet said because she knew it was what society would be thinking about her. It wasn’t anything about who she was as a person and it was infuriating that after all these years no one really cared. All they wanted to know was what vindictive thing she could be doing and to which famous wizard. 

Draco watched her mind work. A small bit of magic made its way towards him and it was fiery. He smiled then. “Relax love, I never saw you as Potter’s sidekick.” 

Hermione could feel the redness on her cheeks. She looked at her hands as they fidgeted with her plate. She placed it on the table. “Thanks. I don’t see you as your father. At least, not for a long time. Not anymore.” 

He blinked slowly at her and it was the way her magic seemed to relax him that confirmed she was being serious. They stared at each other for a moment, the intimate words hanging in the air. 

“Then what’s stopping you?” Draco asked, his voice low. He eyed her with those gray eyes that were practically silver, and for the first time that night, his emotions came through them. They were hopeful. 

Hermione tensed. She wasn’t expecting anything like this. And as her mind began to list the dangers, her body said flee. She stood quickly. She walked away from the closeness and found herself by the windows when she finally stopped. She took a deep breath. 

She knew why this marriage was hard. Maybe it was the shitty week and the couple of drinks she’d already had that made it easier to admit the truth. “We can’t erase the past Malfoy,” she said then. “There’s a part of me that’s worried. All those mudblood slurs and old pureblood values, what happens if they resurface? That's all you did at school, you don't know much about me. You’re going to have to prove it to me more than just nice words that this marriage is truly something you want.” 

Draco seemed to contemplate this as he stood and walked over to the fire. He could feel his magic sparking under his skin and he tried to push it away. It wasn’t really working. He stared at the flames. 

“I sat with all the Gryffindors at the Ceremony. I invited them over to our house, mind you. And now I listened to the shit you’re dealing with at work and with the glorious scarhead Potter, all with a smile. We’ve survived numerous dinners together. Coffee in the mornings isn't too bad either, when you remember to brush your hair,” he chided. Hermione shot him a glare. 

“I made sure your room was in order, I’ve had most of your things moved here,” he was starting to list on his fingers. “And your charity is now secure for the next, oh ten years probably. And now,” he said with a smile, “You’re challenging me with the task of proving a marriage to you. That’s not going to be difficult one bit,” he mused. 

Hermione had to smile. “Not for a Malfoy, I’m sure of it.” 

“Can I bribe you with the library?” he suggested. 

Hermione laughed. “That’s really not a bad offer. Anything else?” Draco took a few steps towards her and she seemed to tense. He felt his magic reach out to her and this time, he didn’t stop it. Hermione locked eyes with him. She didn’t stop it either. 

“What if I do everything to help you figure this out? If I promise not let anything happen to you, even if my father is involved? Promise to protect you?” he paused, studying her features. “Is that enough to show you I’ve changed? Because I have. And I do promise.” 

Hermione felt a shiver go down her spine. Draco took another step closer but she didn’t mind this time. It was odd, a situation like this would have frightened her in the past. And logically she knew she didn’t need protecting. But something about the connection with their magic made her heart stammer in her chest.

“I’d say... your good side continues to show,” she managed a small smile. “And to be honest, it looks good on you.” 

Draco chuckled. “My looks aren’t dictated by how nice or evil I am.” 

“You sure?” Hermione teased. “I didn’t like you much in school and then I’d say you were particularly evil.” 

Draco frowned. “Says the girl who punched me.” 

“Says the boy who was on the Inquisitorial Squad,” Hermione scoffed. Draco smirked.

“Being a part of the Inquisitorial Squad did make me follow your every move,” he said, his tone seductive. Hermione eyed him interestedly. 

“But you never did quite figure out what we were up to, huh?” she managed, walking back over to the fire. The armchairs had disappeared. A brilliant white sofa took their place, much like the one Malfoy had transfigured on the night after the Ceremony. Hermione could still picture Pansy lounging on it.

She wondered if Malfoy had done it when she wasn’t looking or if it was a subtle hint from Ruby to get them close. She sighed and took a seat on a far end, kicking off her heels. 

Draco followed and sat opposite her. His eyes followed their way up from her discarded shoes to her legs before he told himself to look away. He could feel his magic recognizing hers the more he stared; it was the calmest he’d felt in days. 

“I did learn a lot about you. A lot I didn’t know. But you were just too clever and I was too arrogant and stubborn,” he smiled and glanced at his front pocket where his ring was. He wondered if he should put it on. 

He faintly recalled the death eaters trying to tie individuals together in some way. Research flooded his thoughts; connection spells, patronuses, and ritual binds. A branding spell similar to the dark mark. It was obvious the rings held something. And the compatibility charms weren’t helping. At least that’s what he was telling himself was the cause of why he was enjoying talking to her so much. Why the connection felt so real. 

“You’re still stubborn,” she pointed out. Hermione knew their magic was mingling and she should stop it. But it was the first time this week her nerves had relaxed. She didn’t want to give that up. So she didn’t fight it. She wondered if, without the ring, he was feeling it at all.

Draco shrugged. "I guess it's better than other things I've been." His words made Hermione laugh, even though she felt the littlest bit of guilt at his expense. And Draco drank in the sound. 

His eyes closed shut as he leaned his head against the back of the couch. When Hermione noticed, she figured she had embarrassed him and the guilt crept back. She stopped laughing rather abruptly and Draco tilted his head, confused. "Why did you stop?"

"Laughing? Because I thought I was being rude," she said, chuckling a little again. She looked at the glass in her hand. There wasn't much left.

"I guess I should make fun of myself more often, your laugh is so pretty," he considered and Hermione chuckled again, not realizing his compliment. "But it is rather difficult, not many flaws you know."

“Oh none,” she laughed. “Bigotry, arrogance, these are just mere hobbies of yours,” she listed on her fingers. Draco noticed then how long and thin they were. 

He scoffed. “Okay so the shitty tattoo is still there, but the bigotry has gone.” 

At this, Hermione finally stopped laughing. Draco noticed and looked at his glass. Her voice grew serious. “Does it bother you? That you still have the mark I mean,” she asked with uncertainty. She remembered the ghost white letters on her own arm and a shutter went down her spine. 

Draco looked contemplative for some time. Then, he shrugged slowly. “Yes... and no. It’s there, a reminder of all my wrongs. And a reminder that I’ve moved on. Most days I don’t notice,” and he gestured to his long sleeves. “But other days…” 

Hermione nodded. It made sense. She was surprised by his honesty, but then again, that was becoming a regular thing between them. They were quiet for some time and somewhere off in the distance, a clock struck ten. 

“This has been the longest week of my life,” she said then, realizing how tired she felt. 

Draco agreed. “Marriage tends to do that to people.” He smiled and she almost wanted to stay there with him. Almost. But the way their magic was firing she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. She wasn’t sure she was ready for it. Any of it. She stood slowly and Draco followed her lead. 

They were out in the hallway and to the stairs before she spoke. “I want to see that library tomorrow. It’s more of a need than a want,” Hermione said, she was already climbing the steps. 

Draco sighed. “I’ve always been attracted to that part of you,” the words escaped his lips before he could stop them. He couldn’t hide the look of surprise when she turned. 

Hermione knew her cheeks were red then. Her fingertips were sparking with magic. “Careful Draco, there’s that good side again. Who’s to say Harry’s the only saint?” she said, as she reached the landing. 

“Maybe my good side is always showing, you just aren’t looking for it,” he called to her, feeling his nerves on fire at the sound of his name on her lips. 

She turned when she reached her bedroom door and smiled. “Good night Malfoy.” She closed the door behind her and sank to the floor. Her mind was buzzing with that energetic magic and she looked at her left hand. Her ring was glowing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise all these loose ends will come back and tie together (the rings, the Prophet photo, the werewolves and muggleborns going missing)   
> Hang on tight! It's about to get interesting!


	18. Nightmares and Fires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's postwar life if it's not plagued with nightmares? Everyone's got them and it's time for spouses to see! Oh yeah, and maybe a little pyrotechnics, I don't know...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the continued support of this fic. I never expected it to get so much hype and I'm so grateful for it. Hope you enjoy this next chapter, even though it's a little late!

It was well past midnight when she felt it. A jerking feeling that something was wrong and magic startled her awake. Then, a strange, strangled noise and a thud. She sat upright in bed, listening. She reached instinctively for her wand. 

Hermione wondered if she had imagined it at first. Like being in that state between sleep and wakefulness, where things are both real and unreal. But then she heard a yell, recognized the sound of his voice as it carried up from the stairs, the hall, and seeped its way into her room. And all the worry came flooding in. 

Hermione threw open her door, wand brandished, unsure of what she was to find. It was Malfoy Manor after all, but a part of her knew deep down what it was. What it had to be. Nightmares didn’t care if you were once evil or once good. They plagued everyone equally. She knew Malfoy would be no different. 

His door was ajar but the hall was completely dark. With no moonlight shining in the high windows across from the balcony, Hermione couldn’t see more than a couple inches in front of her face. She silently cast lumos, walking slowly in case he had somehow collapsed. She was at the top of the stairs when she finally saw him. 

Hermione froze. Several feet down, Draco was slumped against the banister. His legs were sprawled out like he had fallen and he was covered in sweat. A hand weakly wrapped around the nearest spindle. He moaned, his head lolling as if he was in pain. 

Instinctually Hermione rushed down the stairs to his side. She stuffed her wand quickly into her hair as she reached to shake his shoulders. When he didn’t respond, she did the only thing she could think of- she cupped his cheeks in her hands. And the rush of his magic hit her like a freight train. 

His magic was erratic as it surged through her. She lifted Draco’s face to meet hers. His eyes lightened as they gained focus, his free hand shot to her wrist. His grip was tight and almost defensive, not comprehending who she was or where he was. 

He still didn’t have his ring on, but she knew then it was his magic that jolted her awake. It was the same, erratic feeling now alive inside her. The panic behind his eyes was real and it was sharp under her skin. “Draco, relax. You’re okay, it’s me,” she said calmly, hoping she forced enough softness into her voice that it covered the anxiety. 

Draco was still reactive; he looked around sharply, his breathing heavy. “How did I- how did I get here? Why are you-” he said between breaths, but he seemed to relax into her touch and lose his train of thought. She still had her hands on his cheeks. He felt so cold.

Hermione waited, letting him take the time he needed. She’d been here before, with Harry, Ron, Ginny, even her own nightmares. It wasn’t easy, for anyone. His magic still seemed turbulent as it poured in through her fingers in waves. She wondered what the nightmare had been about...

Draco sat, shivering and drenched. How could he have possibly forgotten to lock his own bloody bedroom door? This wasn’t the first time a nightmare had him physically moving; he should have been smarter than this. Should have realized that all the emotions they’d shared and all his considerations of the past would mix badly in his mind. 

Draco could feel his heartbeat in his throat, thick and heavy. He willed it to go back to normal. What had the nightmare even been about? He couldn’t fully remember, his head was still swimming. He’d been running from death eaters, hexes flying, torture curses stinging his skin. He kept turning down the wrong hallways, finding dead ends.

He felt his chest burning, couldn’t get a breath in before there was a voice out of nowhere telling him to turn around. He hesitated. Another hex hit him square in the chest. He was too taken aback by the spell, but Granger’s voice spoke again. It urged him to turn, to listen. So he finally did. He followed it down long dirty hallways, twisting and turning, until a light finally loomed up ahead. Then he felt himself falling… 

He squeezed his eyes shut as if he could push it all away by sheer will. He tried to focus on anything else. Anything besides curses and death eaters and the voice he’d trusted. Yet all he could feel was Granger’s magic leaking into his system. It was like an anaesthetic and her hands felt so, so warm. 

Hermione watched him as she held him. He was rigid and his eyes were closed again. She noticed the feel of the sharp angles of his cheekbones under her fingertips. She hadn’t expected them to be so smooth. And despite how cold he felt, her nerves felt like they were on fire. She absentmindedly moved her thumb across his jaw and bright gray eyes looked up at her blinking. 

It took Draco a second to raise his head up on his own. Granger still had her hands wrapped around his face and she looked surprised when he didn’t flinch away. She held on a minute longer as he stared at her. Her magic was intoxicating when she was this close, touching him like this. 

And then Hermione let go, rather abruptly like she was only now realizing what she was doing. Her arms fell slowly to her sides as she took a step back. She frowned. “I- I’m not sure how you got here. I’m guessing you slept-walked. You must have fallen down the stairs and that’s what woke me.” 

She didn’t dare bring up that his magic woke her. He didn’t need that, not now. She took a deep breath and looked him over, searching for any sights of injury. He didn’t seem to notice and she could faintly feel his magic easing from her body now that she wasn’t touching him, wasn’t as close. 

She snagged her wand from her hair and said a quick healing diagnostic. It was a tactic she’d picked up during the war, thanks to Tonks. “How long have you had nightmares like this?” she said quietly. 

Draco looked up to see her eyes now focused on the spellwork in front of her. He could still catch the hint of worry behind them though. And he missed the feeling of her hands on his skin. As he watched, the colors of the diagnostic mixed too oddly for his unadjusted vision. He put a hand over his eyes and forehead, wiping away the sweat. 

“Since before the war, but they don’t usually include relocation,” he managed, looking back at her. She put her wand down and studied his face. “I’m fine,” he said, trying to stand. 

“You don’t have to pretend,” Hermione said, eying his unsteady stance as he gripped the banister to get to his feet. Her hand shot out to catch him as he swayed. She made contact with his elbow and his gaze shot to hers. Her hand jumped back. 

Draco watched her movements calculatedly waiting for the rush of her magic, but she must have let go too quickly. He hid his disappointment as he straightened, taking in his disheveled state. 

“I’m not pretending,” he said, but it was only now he realized how shaky his hands were, the ache in his lower back. He was still wearing his shirt from this morning. It was unbuttoned, his chest bare. He only had on a pair of black briefs. A part of him wondered if Granger noticed. She ended the diagnostic and tucked her wand away. 

That’s when he looked at her, really looked at her, and his breath caught. She stood there on the stairs, her hair messy, arms now crossed. And wearing nothing but a rather skimpy set of silk pajamas. A black robe clung to her shoulders, engulfing her curves in even more silk. 

Draco eyed her more widely than he should have, but this was a side of Granger he’d never seen before. He could still feel the traces of her magic under his skin, calm and soothing. As he eyed her, the magic grew steadier. 

Hermione frowned at him again. “The diagnostic was clean, except for bruising on your lower back, most likely from the fall and... well, your left arm,” she glanced at the sleeve where she knew the dark mark lay hidden. Draco’s arm twitched away from her. 

“I told you I’m fine,” he insisted, but she just narrowed her eyes. “It always comes up on diagnostics, dark magic never heals,” he stated between his teeth. 

Hermione blinked at his change in tone. “Fine. I’m still going to make Dreamless Sleep, whether you choose to take it or I have to smuggle it into your fire whiskey.” She tilted her head in satisfaction in a very McGonagall sort of way and she turned to head up the stairs. 

“Rude,” he scoffed, “and very slytherin of you.” Draco took a tentative step and followed her much more slowly. The black material swirled around her legs as she stepped. He tried not to stare. He knew he should probably thank her, but he wasn’t sure how. 

“Yes, you’re turning me into a regular little snake,” she said, waving her hand flippantly through the air. Draco smirked. She had already reached the landing. Her curls tumbled behind her and her magic was fading. 

He didn’t have much time left. Vulnerability wasn’t his strong suit, but it was better than the violence that plagued his mind. And if it wasn’t for her, he’d still be living it tonight. 

“Thank you,” she heard him say when she was at her door. Draco could feel his magic searching for hers. 

“Of course,” she managed, but she didn’t look at him. She was suddenly aware of how much he meant it. How many times he must have been alone when he finally awakened from whatever dangers lay in his mind. She reached for the knob and was halfway through when she felt his magic reaching hers again. 

"You said I don't know you Granger," she froze at the quietness of his voice. "But I clearly trust you. Even in my dreams, it’s you I listened to. And that should count for something." 

Hermione couldn’t find the right words to say. Her fingers felt numb on the knob as his magic raced through them. “I- I guess it should. Try to get some rest, okay?” She opened the door the rest of the way and quickly disappeared inside, missing the bittersweet smile that had found its way to Draco’s lips. 

She climbed into her bed in a rush, trying to push away the adrenaline of it all and the feel of his face in her hands. As a distraction, she mentally went through the potions ingredients she’d need for Dreamless Sleep. She couldn’t bear to feel his magic like that again. So on edge, so panicked. It was frightening and she couldn’t stop herself from wondering just how long he’d been suffering alone. 

She closed her eyes and a burning ache was starting to grow again where his magic should have been. She fell asleep to the pain and wondering what she had done to make Draco trust her. 

...

It was practically noon by the time Hermione apparated back from Ernie’s. She hadn’t seen Draco at all beforehand and, after their encounter on the stairs, she was glad of it. His door was shut and no light poured out of it; at least he’d taken her advice on resting. 

She had taken a portkey to just outside Ernie’s property at exactly 9 am, a safer option than connecting Ernie’s fireplace to the floo. Besides, she hadn’t wanted to try and figure out the Malfoy Manor wards without Draco. There could still be some anti-muggle curses hidden in the spellwork. 

But once she walked the two hundred yards or so to Ernie’s front gate, Hermione could feel the dark magic in the air. On guard and cautious, she searched the whole house before she decided to give up. She locked the door and ran far enough away before she felt it safe to apparate back to the Manor. 

Hermione went straight for the study, to her files and notes still sprawled out on the desk. She found a spare piece of parchment and was busy scribbling on it much too fast when Draco suddenly appeared by the fire. She knew he was there without even looking up; the ache that nagged her magic all morning finally lessened. 

When she did glance at him, he was leaning against the mantle with his hands in his pockets. Malfoy’s eyes gave no sign of the panic that had plagued them last night and he was fully dressed. His slytherin quidditch sweater looked almost odd given the last time she’d actually seen him in it. It pulled tightly across his chest as he huffed out a breath. 

“What did Macmillan have to say?” Draco asked casually as he watched the quill in her hand fly. After the nightmare, he was much more aware of just how connected they were. He could feel her agitation when he stepped in the room. Not to mention her magic.

She didn’t look up from the parchment. “Nothing,” she stated, too distracted to explain. “Do you have an owl I can borrow?”

Draco snapped a lazy finger and a house elf appeared at her feet. Its hands were held out to her. “He’ll take them and send them off for you.” 

“Thanks,” she said, handing over the scrolls. “To the Potters, their house and Harry’s office, and to Professor McGonagall and Ron and Daphne,” she said and the elf nodded with a smile. He popped away and Hermione turned to Malfoy. 

“What about Macmillan?” he pressed, swallowing the hint of jealousy touching his voice. She was on the other side of the room and his magic pushed against his skin nonetheless. He wondered if she could feel it. 

Hermione just sighed and headed for the door. He stood and made to follow her. “Someone got to him before I did,” she said as she brushed past him and out the door. 

And while Draco was interested by this news, the steady twinge in his chest from her absence finally eased with her appearance at his side. And it was all he could focus on. He hadn’t realized just how uncomfortable he was becoming when she was gone. It was a steady sort of throb that radiated from his chest and through his magic. He didn’t realize it when he was distracted at work or otherwise. But it had been growing more noticeable the longer he kept the ring off. 

Hermione seemed to notice his hesitation and when she glanced at him, she felt the pain of last night lingering on his shoulders. She tried a warm smile and his magic nearly jumped out of his skin. Hermione paused when she felt it and, instead of shying away, she decided to welcome it. She fell into step with him as they walked towards the kitchen. 

She was just doing it because he needed the support, Hermione reasoned to herself. She would too after a nightmare like that. And it comforted her just as much after what she found, or didn’t find, at Ernie’s. That was all. So what if they needed each other a bit, it was probably all from the bond anyway. She sighed and tried to put herself back in the present. 

“I should have known, the minute I opened the gate everything was just… off,” she said, heading for a cabinet and opening it without really thinking. She realized then she had no idea where anything was and she was starving. Did this kitchen even have snacks or did you always have to ask the elves? 

The sight made Draco laugh and when she turned to glare, she didn’t have it in her. His smile was genuine for the first time in a long time. He simply snapped a finger and a tray of scones and fruit appeared next to a pot of coffee. 

Hermione grabbed an empty cup from the tray and took a seat on one of the stools. With a wave of her hand, the kraft lifted and filled her cup as another overturned next to it. She used her magic to fill that one too and it set itself down in front of Draco. He took it with one hand. 

“He’s gone,” she said after a sip and Draco’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “And I don’t mean he went to the store or forgot I was coming. It was like he truly up and left, kidnapped most likely. I stepped inside, the door was unlocked, the kettle was whistling nonstop. Cups were laid out and everything. He had to have been there moments before.” 

“Fuck,” Draco muttered and his grip on the cup tightened.

She told Draco all of it then. How the dark magic was just subtle enough to be noticeable. How she wanted to be angry but she had to be logical; she had to do what she could to help him. To help all of them really. 

So she cast detection charms and revealing spells, and tried to pull any trace of magic out of the house. She’d scanned the floors, the gardens, the windows and doors for any signs of intrusion. And she shuffled through the books stacked on the table, obviously meant for her. 

Hermione snatched up a particularly interesting one on Rune-Object Permanence. It bore the crest from the Department of Mysteries’ private library; what she wouldn’t pay to get even ten minutes in there. It looked like the book was as close as she would get now. 

“Fuck,” Draco said again when she’d finished. He ran a hand through his hair which was still messy from sleep. “I expect Potter will be here soon then.”

Hermione shrugged. “I’m not sure if he’s in the country or not. He was following a lead from you about the werewolves. It’s why I sent one to his office too. He’s more likely to see that first,” she said. “But Ginny might come. She’ll owl me back first.” 

“Well I’ll tell the house elves to alert Theo and Pansy too,” Draco said, “and in the meantime…” he got up quickly and headed for the door. A look of intention hung on his features as he strode down the hall. He was past the stairs by the time Hermione scrambled off her stool. 

Hermione bolted after him. “Where are you going?” she called, reminding herself she’d never been to this part of the Manor before. She could see his blonde head moving along ahead of her. Draco turned left along a long, narrowed corridor and Hermione felt the anxiety rise. 

She couldn’t remember where the Drawing Room was. The icy fear crept up through her veins almost too quickly and she stopped in her tracks. Draco turned. He felt the trepidation in her magic and knew it was the same anxiety she’d had when she first arrived at the Manor. 

His gray eyes met hers and he hoped they showed some warmth in them. Hermione let out a heavy breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. He gave her an encouraging nod. She slowly walked forward and stopped in front of him.

Hermione looked around nervously. “I promised you a library, didn’t I? And you’re going to need it,” Draco gave a small smirk and gestured to the end of the hall. 

Two, tall double doors made of red oak stood, ornately carved with the four Hogwarts houses. Draco watched as Hermione glanced at the doors, then around at all the other hallways. There were so many of them and she studied each in quick succession, mentally catologing details. As if she was mapping escape routes.

Draco sighed, wishing it was her worry he was puffing away instead of just hot air. He reached out a tentative hand and placed it on her arm. The reaction was instant. Her magic jumped and he tried to steady it. Draco knew what she was thinking about and he only wished he could have the courage to help. 

Maybe if he was a better man, he would take her in his arms right then and tell her all about the Drawing Room and what he’d done to it and it would ease all her anxiety. How he’d screamed as he cast bombarda spells at the stained stone floors. How every inch of that room reminded him of Voldemort and he’d shattered every mirror and vase and furniture piece until it was rubble at his feet and his hands bled. 

But Draco couldn’t tell her. Because his fingertips felt alive with magic when he touched her. And he was too scared to break that with such ugly truth. She didn’t need a reminder of the hell that took place there. The hell she went through in there. Eventually she should know, but not now. 

Instead, he settled for just a gentle touch. Hermione looked back at him after a minute and nodded. Their magic mingling comfortably. They walked the remaining length of the hallway together. When they got to the doors, he waved a hand and they opened simultaneously. Draco stepped aside and gestured for her to go first. And all Hermione could do was gape.

She had envisioned the ornate sort of lavishness that could accompany a mansion’s library, if the house was anything to show for it. But the Malfoy Library was something else. More than she could have dreamed of, if she was being honest. 

The room stretched for what seemed like miles, rows and rows of wooden shelves full with old, leather bound volumes. A huge, beautiful fireplace sat opposite the doors, so far away and yet still so large. Around it were clustered plush black arm chairs. She saw a couple tables and chairs scattered throughout and even more armchairs tucked into corners and amidst the shelves. 

The ceiling was high and made of stone. It curved with cutouts to the sky, bringing in the morning sun in long, gleaming columns. A balcony ran around the outside edge of the whole room, adding to the enormous amount of books now at her disposal. She walked until she reached the fireplace, marveling as she went. 

Draco followed behind her slowly, taking in her excitement. It made him smile too much, but she looked so happy compared to the anxiety that raked her features just moments ago. He was a few steps behind her when she turned. 

Hermione could feel her cheeks strained as she smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy and incredibly jealous at the same time,” she reasoned. Draco had his arms crossed as he chuckled much too proudly. 

She just shook her head at him. “Thank you. Even though you’ve clearly been holding out on me. I can’t believe this library is in your house!” 

Draco watched as Hermione gazed at the balcony, its walls of books. “Our house now,” he corrected, “and yes, I’m guessing you assumed poor little pureblood obsessed Draco was just so ignorant to all the knowledge you gobbled up at every chance you got.” 

“Well, not exactly that, I just…” Hermione tried, but she found herself at a loss of how to put into words her thoughts of Draco Malfoy from her youth. They weren’t exactly pleasant. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. “I didn’t think you were completely ignorant,” she said weakly. “I knew you weren’t a complete idiot.” 

“Thanks,” he laughed. “You’ll be happy to know this was a place my father didn’t like to go,” he told her then, in confidence. “And for that reason, I spent a lot of time here. There’s quite the selection of muggle books to the left, if you ever want them.” He gestured to an entire shelf. 

Hermione blinked. “Are you serious?” she said as she was already walking over. She scanned the titles. Austen, Christie, Frost, Keats, Poe, Shakespeare. He wasn’t lying. She turned back to him, stunned. 

Draco felt her astonishment in her magic. He shrugged. “My mother appointed me a governess in the summer when I was still young and couldn’t be left to my own devices. My father couldn’t have been bothered to learn their names let alone interview them. It wasn’t until the third one, when I was seven, that I realized my mother hired a muggle.” Hermione’s eyes grew wide.

“Whether my mother knew or not, I can’t say. I’ve never had the nerve to ask her,” Draco laughed. “But that governess had me read every day. She brought me so many stories and I ate them up. We read in the gardens and here, by the fire,” he gestured to the chairs. “And she always let me keep them.” Hermione smiled. 

“I used to hide them, worried my father would find them,” Draco told her, the memory vivid in his mind. He was staring at the flames. “I’d imagine what he’d do, finding his son with muggle books. But I liked them and mother liked that I liked to read. And I would pretend they weren’t what they were…” 

Hermione watched the memory dance across his features. It was both comforting and strained at the same time. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like for a child to fear his father the way Draco had. 

Draco straightened. “When I was twelve I enchanted this shelf. No one knows it’s here except me. And now... you.” 

The memory faded away from his features and he looked away, as if he’d shared too much. Hermione took the few steps to close the gap between them, their magic singing. She took his hand in hers and he looked up at her instantly. 

“Thank you. For the library and the memory,” her voice was soft and her hand felt like fire when she touched him. Draco seemed to feel it too and he almost flinched. She let go and took a step back. They stared at each other for a moment longer. 

Hermione blinked and awkwardly turned away towards the fireplace. Her mind was reeling, unsure why she had done it. The reaction had been so much more than she was expecting, even remembering what she had felt last night. And that had been more intimate. 

Her magic was practically jumping and she knew Draco was feeling the same thing. He had backed away a few paces and was pretending to look for a book. His hand shook ever so slightly as he perused the titles. 

Did this keep happening because of the bond? she wondered then, glancing at Draco again. He still didn’t have his ring on so it didn’t make any sense. She considered the compatibility charms again and just what it meant for them to be paired together. The memory had been so cherished; it meant so much that he’d shared it with her. 

Hermione swallowed, trying to get a rein on her thoughts. “I will come back to that shelf,” she stated. She wanted to be sure Draco knew how much it meant to her that he’d showed it to her. He looked at her with those silver eyes. “But I’m guessing there’s a dark arts section... or sections. And that is where we should start.” 

Draco’s eyes became unreadable then. He reluctantly nodded. 

...

Hours had passed since she’d returned from Ernie’s and told Draco all about it. Hours since he’d walked her down the halls and shared a piece of him along with the library. And hours where she was still thinking about him every free moment she took away from researching. 

The elves had brought the entirety of her papers and files from the study and deposited them in the same arrangement on the table nearest the fire. Along with a fresh pot of coffee and more scones.

But she hadn’t even been there to thank them. Draco had been showing her the Darks Arts section, or sections, as she’d so guessed. And there were many of them. She asked to see anything on runes, arithmancy, and metalwork, hoping there might be something of use. She brought back five different volumes to the table before she set to work. 

Draco watched her for some time, studying her work and book choices. And then he studied her. Like a machine she flipped and scanned and wrote. Her annoyance and determination was carefully hidden behind her brown eyes as they jumped from page to parchment and back again. Draco could feel her magic coming off her in choppy waves, giving away the uneasiness she truly felt. 

He wanted to say something. About all the books on dark magic, about how they would figure this all out. About his nightmare and the governesses his father had interacted with. He wanted to ask her about herself and them; their relationship or whatever this was. But he had no idea what to say. How to say it. Was it the bond urging him to get to know her? Or was it a part of him, compatibility be damned, that wanted to? 

Draco stood suddenly, realizing just how much he was staring at her lips as she read a passage to herself. His brow creased and he walked away, headed anywhere but near her. He was halfway across the room when he remembered a section on the balcony on arithmancy. If he was going to stick around he might as well be useful. He climbed the spiral staircase thinking about brown curls and her childhood. 

He came back with several large tomes and piled them on the floor in front of an armchair. He made it a point to drop the last one so Granger would look up at him. She rolled her eyes and went right back to her own book. Pleased, he took a seat and grabbed the first volume, getting to work. 

They continued working in silence, only making noise when Hermione shuffled papers or Draco dropped another book onto the floor. The coffee pot had to be endless, as Hermione had already gotten to her third cup when Draco summoned his own and it still had enough to go around. 

It wasn’t until then that Hermione ventured a glance in his direction. Draco was lounging in one of the armchairs, his legs draped over the arm and a book propped against his legs. He was spinning his wand mindlessly in his hand and his features were drawn in a studious kind of way that made Hermione smile. 

She was still watching him when blue sparks started to sprout from the tip of his wand. He didn’t seem to notice at first but when one landed on his hand, he jumped. His wand clattered to the floor and Hermione tried to stifle her laughter.

His eyes were on hers in an instant. He narrowed them and dropped his legs back to the floor. Their magic had been quietly humming together in the background and it wasn’t until now that he noticed. He picked up his wand and pocketed it before grabbing his coffee. “Anything useful, oh brightest witch of our age?” he chided. 

She smiled, but sighed. “Yes, and no,” she gestured to the book in front of her. “There’s a runic ritual in here for binding two magic signatures into one. It involves some complicated dark magic, a sacrifice, and some kind of physical bind. That could easily be the rings if they used this one.” 

Draco looked disgusted at the idea of a sacrifice. “What makes you think it’s the one?” 

“It includes a couple of the runes I found in the file you gave me. And it discusses the advantages of binding magic: increased magical ability, increased magical power and fertility, a heightened awareness in categories such as spellcasting and defensive magic, and an emotional connection. Plus, your father scribbled all along the margins.” 

Draco stared at her. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Well that’s just fucking great,” he said. The emotional connection was spot on, but the other side effects he was curious about. He snapped his fingers and Ruby appeared from nowhere. 

“Ruby, can you detect any books my father might have written in?” Draco asked her. She smiled and her big bat ears waved back and forth as she nodded yes. “Please go fetch them then. Specifically those that have to do with arithmancy and runes.” Ruby nodded and walked towards the shelves as two more elves joined her. 

“I am quite capable of finding the books myself Malfoy-” Hermione started, but Draco cut her off. 

“We’ve never actually tried spellwork or dueling together,” he mentioned, thinking about how part of the intent of the Clarity Project was to create enhanced soldiers for the war. 

Draco was about to suggest they try but his voice was drowned out by the sounds of a crash. It came from the main hall, the one they’d entered on the night of the Ceremony. All Hermione could think of was the floo. 

Draco stood up sharply and Hermione locked eyes with him. Anxiety filled his gaze, mucking the usual molten grey into something of a mud puddle. She realized she had never seen him truly let his guard down, even last night on the stairs. This was a first and he appeared almost protective.

But the crashing stomps coming from the hall didn’t let her linger on Malfoy; his eyes were suddenly shielding any emotion, his wand at the ready. With a nod of his chin Hermione followed his lead, taking her own wand from her pocket. 

She was on her feet in seconds and the two of them took off for the fireplace. Hermione saw Ruby following behind her, as if ready to protect her masters. It was much farther from the main part of the house than Hermione realized. Draco finally slowed at the turn of the corner, Hermione ran into his outstretched arm. 

“Are you serious?” she hissed, feeling the heat of his fingertips on her chest. “I’m not a damsel. War heroine here, remember?” she whispered as she pushed past, wand brandished. 

“Never said you were,” he said haughtily. “Except no one should be able to get through the wards without our permission,” Draco sighed and shrugged away his chivalry. She was already gone. He rounded the corner, quick on her heels. 

But there was no reason to have their wands out. Luna had tumbled out in front of them, covered in soot and black ash. It smeared her cheeks and clung to her blonde hair as she stumbled forward. Her jumper was singed in multiple places and it was the first time Hermione had ever seen the girl upset. 

Hermione followed Luna’s gaze to Pansy, who was doubled over behind her. Pansy’s hand hung loosely in Luna’s, her skin equally as coated with black. An enormous silver bag hung from Pansy’s slender shoulder and it looked out of place in their disheveled state. 

Hermione stared as Draco ran forward, pulling Pansy’s arm up and over his shoulder to help her. “Ruby, get some water ready in the study please. And any first aid materials we may need.” The elf, who had gone unnoticed in the corner, nodded, and with a quick pop she was gone. 

Hermione was shaken back to reality. “What happened? Who did this to you?” 

But Pansy kept her lips shut, little hiccups of coughs coming from deep in her chest. It rattled her as she eased into Draco’s arm. A flash of something like jealousy bubbled up in Hermione's chest as she watched them, but she forced it away instantly. 

Pansy looked like she had been stunned multiple times. She lifted her head to look Hermione in the eyes as she passed. Her normally powdered cheeks were smeared with gray and black and she shook her head bitterly. 

The bag slumped off her shoulder and made a muffled thud as it dropped to the ground, forgotten. Draco pulled Pansy on before she could speak. Although, Hermione wasn’t certain Pansy even could, given all the ash. 

Hermione grabbed the bag awkwardly and went forward to Luna, who was trying to catch her breath. “Luna, what is going on? What happened to you two?” Hermione began banishing the soot from Luna’s hair and casting a health diagnostic, but Luna followed Pansy and Draco. 

“Audrena,” Luna said calmly between a cough as they reached the study door. Draco was easing Pansy into a chair. “She burned Parkinson Estate to the ground.”


	19. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy drops some rumors and Hermione loses it. Was all Malfoy's flirting just a ploy? I fucking hope not.
> 
> Maybe Draco shares some much needed pent up feelings and Theo sees right through it. Plus, Hermione finally sees that stupid Daily Prophet picture...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for having so much time between this chapter and the last. I have been swamped at work and had extreme writer's block for how to make this chapter work the way I'm hoping.... maybe I need another beta reader, I'm not sure. Hopefully this will work for you all and THANK YOU for the continued support and comments. It means so much that people like this story and want to read it. Thank you for your patience and enjoy!

Draco stood beside Pansy, studying a diagnostic healing spell for anything he might have missed. It had been over an hour like this, and Hermione was lucky enough he hadn’t kicked her out of the room. 

Draco had grown increasingly annoyed with her constant twittering in his ear about the proper wand techniques for healing charms and which potions to give. Like he hadn’t been studying them constantly for the past eight years amongst a war too. Their magic hummed annoyingly underneath all their bickering and he was grateful only he and Granger could tell. 

Hermione hadn’t known Draco had a knowledge of healing and wondered when it started. Maybe it had to do with the fact he had also gone through a war. Or maybe he’d learned because of his father. She frowned and continued to watch his calculated movements a little longer.

Finally satisfied that the stunning spells didn’t leave permanent damage, Draco waved his wand to clear the analytics above Pansy’s head. Pansy stared back, eyes narrowed in annoyance until he pocketed his wand. The elves had already gotten her cleaned up and into fresh clothes, but her face looked tired. And Hermione could just see the hurt behind Pansy’s mask of boredom as she fidgeted with the oversized slytherin sweater she had on.

Draco finally turned and walked over to the cabinet by the fire. He rubbed a hand over his face before reaching for a bottle of fire whiskey. “So,” he said as he poured. “You went after her. Even though you know how much it’s not worth it. Even though you knew it’d be dangerous if she found you. And now you’ve gotten yourself all beat up for no reason and-” 

Hermione was about to interject but Pansy beat her to it. “Excuse me Draco Malfoy!” Pansy snapped and she stood up too fast. She winced as she clutched her ribs. “I don’t think I asked your opinion.” 

“Well you came to my house, practically dragged here is more like it,” Draco was saying before Hermione strode over to him. 

“Lay off Malfoy,” Hermione stated and his magic flared at her. “It’s bad enough she had to be dragged here! She’s in no state to have you yell at her.” Hermione’s arms were crossed over her chest when he turned to scowl at her. 

Draco could feel the ring in his pocket, knowing his magic was just itching to have him put it on. But he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

Pansy sat back down gently. “I never thought I’d see the day Gryffindor’s princess stuck up for me. And she’s already telling you to shut it,” she said to Draco, “told you she’d be good for you.”

Luna chuckled, sitting on the arm of Pansy’s chair and looking much happier that her partner was no longer in such distress. Pansy watched as the slightest bit of red tinged Draco’s cheek. She smirked satisfied. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring the comment about their pairing, even if it did spark a nerve. “I guess she’s back to normal then. Continue with your reprimanding.” Hermione gestured to Draco to go on. Draco chuckled, but Pansy cut him off again before he could start.

“Look, I know it was idiotic. Foolish, even. She clearly wants nothing to do with me after her rant at the Ceremony but,” Pansy looked from Draco to Hermione. “I had to do something. I was so mad at her and well, I know she’s bound to still keep records. That she was meticulous about and if she’s involved, well... Where’s the bag?” She looked around then.

“Here,” Hermione said, pulling the silver bag from behind the table where she’d dropped it. It still had some soot on it. When Hermione handed it over to Pansy, she grabbed her wand off the table nearby and scourgified it. Then Pansy set it on her lap and unzipped it. 

Dozens of papers and journals tumbled out and even a couple books were stuffed inside. Some were slightly charred, but most intact. Hermione stared, impressed. Her hands shook at the anticipation of getting to work. Draco leaned against the wall, wide eyed.

“It wasn’t for nothing,” Pansy said, holding the bag open. 

“We’ve got to tell the others,” was all Hermione said as she walked forward and picked up the first page within reach. 

“I’ve got to strengthen the wards,” Draco managed. He downed the fire whiskey and was out the door in seconds. 

...

The sky had darkened to a deep blue black above the table in the library. Theo, Cormac, and Ginny had arrived sometime earlier, Hermione didn’t know when. She was too busy pouring over the contents of Pansy’s bag to even realize. 

Ruby had levitated the bag, Pansy, and some fire whiskey, at Draco’s insistence, to their new location. It had more space and the additional books to help them out. Hermione had a house elf send another round of letters, this time to Harry’s field office and McGonagall. 

Harry was in Albania and Ginny had only a vague idea of when he would be back. Ron and Daphne hadn’t responded to the owl she’d sent. When Theo cracked a joke about enjoying their honeymoon, Ginny punched him in the arm and wrote three more letters. Ruby was more than happy to send them for her. Or maybe she was a bit frightened. 

The papers and journals were strewn across the table and they trailed in some sort of order onto the floor as Hermione worked through them. Ginny seemed to be the only one to understand Hermione’s madness. Pansy was helping Luna and Cormac to organize everything while Hermione read and reread the contents, trying to make sense of it all. Theo and Draco had gone off to search the Manor once more for any of Lucius’s old writings. They hadn’t been back for some time. 

Hermione’s head was stuck in a notebook when Cormac found the newspaper from Sunday after the Ceremony amongst the crumbled papers in Pansy’s bag. “How did you feel about the article Hermione?” he asked, holding up the Daily Prophet. 

Hermione looked up slowly, blinking. When she realized it was the Prophet, she rolled her eyes. “Honestly I didn’t even look.” 

“Seriously?” Pansy stared at her. Hermione shrugged it off. “You need to see this picture.” Pansy watched Hermione with a wicked look. But Pansy stood and, clutching her side, snatched the paper from Cormac’s fingers. Cormac looked at Hermione apologetically. 

Pansy walked slowly over to her. Hermione shot her an irritated glance. “You shouldn’t be walking. And Rita’s always got an angle, you should know that by now.” 

“Of course, and it’s quite the angle,” Pansy sang, shoving the paper under Hermione’s nose. Hermione remembered then what Draco had said about their picture not making the front page, but Pansy had already flipped it open to the right one. And when Hermione finally saw it her eyes grew wide. 

There she was, in her dress from the Ceremony, her long legs poised beautifully as she stood around with all the Gryffindors and Slytherins. And Malfoy was right beside her. His tall figure looked almost stately the way he commanded the circle. They were sharing drinks, trying to shake the anxiousness that still filled the air after Audrena had disappeared. 

But despite that, a number of them were laughing. George was high fiving Theo, Ginny chuckling behind her glass, Harry looking uncomfortable. And Draco. Draco was laughing, that genuine laugh that once again took the breath out of her, even in the black and white of the newsprint. 

And in that newsprint she was smiling at him. She saw herself, watching him in awe, her smile coming slowly each time as the picture reset itself. It wasn’t until the third time that she caught the sight of his hand reaching out towards her waist. His slender fingers were about to graze the fabric of her dress when the picture stopped moving. 

Hermione felt her cheeks growing warm. She remembered the moment, so subtle and yet it hadn’t felt so important when it was happening. Her magic thrummed just under her fingertips. She could feel her breath catching in her throat. 

“Cozy photo, no?” Pansy sneered. Hermione glared. It made sense now why Draco was so curious about it. She looked again at how much intimacy could be found in the picture. She hated Rita for it. She could feel her cheeks reddening. 

She threw the paper back down and went to look at the piles in front of Cormac and Luna. “Was there anything in there about the other pairings?” 

“Oh yeah, Michael Corner and Hannah Abbott for one. Dennis Creevey and Terry Boot, nice combo there,” Cormac pointed out. 

“Don’t forget Katie Bell and Tracey Davis too. Katie always liked watching me fly,” Ginny chuckled to herself. “Redheads really were her type.” She eyed Cormac and he just laughed with a nod. 

“Padma and Seamus were paired,” Luna mentioned then, and Hermione nodded. 

Cormac tossed a journal aside. “Parvati’s with Lee Jordan and then there’s Cho and Justin.” Justin Finch-Fletchy was a muggleborn like her, so it was no wonder he was paired with a pureblood. 

Pansy stood, looking over Hermione’s work. “Alicia Spinnet and Marcus, Dean Thomas and Astoria, Romilda Vane and Greg, Marietta Edgecombe and Blaise,” she listed off the slytherin pairings she had already committed to memory. 

“And Ernie and Susan,” Luna frowned. Hermione had told them all about what had happened this morning. It wasn’t until Luna said Susan hadn’t shown up for work yesterday that it really sunk in. 

Hermione didn’t say anything. She was distracting herself from the way her magic was fluttering by sorting through the papers Ginny and Cormac had already categorized. Ginny watched her with a frown. “Hermione,” she started. “You’re allowed to feel your own emotions you know. You are allowed to remember you are a part of this.” 

Hermione paused and took a deep breath. She looked up at Ginny then. “I know. It’s just… it’s been- I always feel like I need to solve everything. I am everyone’s go to. If I can’t figure this out… we’re screwed.” Draco’s words ran through her mind then: you’ll always be the brightest witch of our age. She felt her magic buckle. 

“Okay, so let us help,” Ginny mustered, looking over more of the papers. 

Hermione managed a weak smile. “Sure. But honestly, what would really help me is getting Malfoy back here,” she said under her breath for only Ginny to hear. Ginny moved closer, wide eyed. 

“Did you just say what I think you said?” Ginny whispered quietly, looking over the arithmancy on the papers in front of her. She scrutinized a formula before venturing to look at Hermione. 

Hermione glanced over to Pansy and Cormac. They were busy chatting about one of the pairings and Hermione felt safe to speak. “It’s this bloody bond. I don’t know, the more we’re apart the more it hurts,” she said, rubbing at her wrists as if she could will the magic to relax. 

“Well at least I know I’m not going crazy,” Ginny said, suddenly relieved. “Ours doesn’t hurt, mind you, but since Harry’s been gone it’s like my magic can’t sit still. If I’m concentrating it’s fine but when I’m flying! I almost crashed into one of the stands yesterday!” 

Hermione paused. “You mean, you feel your magic connected like that?” Ginny nodded. “Thank Merlin. At least I’m not going completely nuts, the pain is something else but... I just think it’s because he hasn’t put his stupid ring back on and-” 

Ginny’s jaw dropped. “He took it off?” Ginny grabbed Hermione’s hand to stop her from shuffling papers and she was forced to look Ginny in the eye.

Hermione winced. “Right, I thought Harry would have told you… yeah, it’s not my favorite part of our relationship but in his defense, I egged him on.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” Ginny sighed. “So I’m guessing you haven’t put yours back on either?” 

Hermione’s brows creased. “Mine doesn’t come off unfortunately.” 

Shock etched Ginny’s pretty features. “Mine does,” and with that she slipped the ring from her finger with ease. She looked uncomfortable the minute it was free and quickly slid it back on. When she looked back at Hermione, Hermione looked miserable. 

“Ginny, does Harry know? Because he couldn’t take his off either and…” Hermione asked. Ginny frowned. 

… 

“You took it off? Why?” Theo asked, his voice incredulous. He sat on a stool in the enormous kitchen. Draco leaned against the counter opposite him, holding the ring up between them. It was nearly 11 o’ clock. 

“You bloody well know why,” Draco stated as he inspected it.

“I think this is one of those times where the situation is bigger than your delicate pride Draco,” Theo mentioned, flipping a quill around in his fingers. “She’s not exactly too dumb to figure out your feelings without a connection so. Might as well make things easier for her. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

Draco shrugged, still looking at the ring. His magic was painfully pricking at his hands, as if the distance from Granger was starting to really be a problem. His mouth was set in a thin line and Theo watched him curiously. 

“What are you afraid of, that you’ll fall for her? Or that your past will get in the way of any functional form of a relationship?” Theo asked. 

Draco straightened, dropping his hand from his face. “Of course I’m afraid of the consequences of the past Theo! Look what I was! And I don’t like her, at least not like that, it’s like, well-” his cheeks seemed to redden as he spoke too quickly. 

“Sure,” Theo cut him off. “Not that you’re willing to admit. But here’s the thing. She’s compatible with you. We already know that, thanks to my amazing handiwork on the stupid Goblet,” he said, smiling over the feather. “You’re worried you’ll grow feelings for the little gryffindor and I think it truly scares you.”

Draco turned away, his magic giving a jerk. He leaned over the sink, trying to make sense of it all. He thought of all the conversations in the hallway, over dinner, the witty remarks, the way her face softened over a cup of coffee on the veranda. Her fingertips on his skin. His breathing seemed to hitch and he stared at his own reflection in the darkened window pane in front of him. He could see Theo behind him, watching. 

“Or, you already have started to grow feelings…” Theo questioned, trying to study Draco’s face in the reflection. 

Draco huffed and pushed away from the sink. “I don’t know what I’m feeling! Theo, it’s like my magic has a will of its own,” the words tumbled from his mouth. “When she’s around, it claws at me to get to her. When I’m away from her it’s- it’s turning into pain,” he stared at his fingertips, curling them. 

“And then last night…” across his eyes flashed black silk, her stubborn pout, the way her concern radiated through her touch. 

Draco blinked it all away. “She’s like a drug, Theo. I don’t know if it’s part of the bond or the compatibility charms or what, but… it’s unreal,” he saw the magic dancing in her eyes and the way her curls wrapped around her shoulders so beautifully. 

“It sounds like your father’s stupid plan is working,” Theo stated miserably. “But I’ll let you know, you aren’t alone Drake. I feel a similar connection to Cormac.” Draco looked up, hopeful. 

Theo set the quill down and grabbed for his glass. “It was strange at first, but I think we both got used to it. It doesn’t seem to come and go the way you describe though. It’s... more controlled. If I don’t want to let him in, I don’t. And I don’t feel pain. It’s more like, I’m very aware he’s not present with me, you know?” 

Draco’s gray eyes searched Theo’s, confused. “How is that fair?” 

“Maybe it’s the rings,” Theo shrugged. “We haven’t taken ours off. Or maybe it has to do with the strength of your connection or something stupidly Clarity-esque like that.”

Draco sneered. “Alright, alright, fine. So if I put it back on, it’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I have no idea,” Theo stated, “but I think it’ll be better than what you’re currently moping through, consequences be damned. As we do more research we’ll get more answers.” Theo gave a smug smile. “And you’ll just have to start coming to terms with those feelings of yours.” 

“That would be helpful if I even knew what they were,” Draco said, frowning.

“Look, you’ve been this way since Hogwarts. You can talk the talk but in the end you’ve always been too preoccupied with what the girl’s going to think of you and your choices to even really try at a relationship. You have to start realizing that individuals can overlook the shitty parts of you for the good parts. And surprisingly, there are good parts.” Theo chuckled. 

“And even war heroine Granger has her flaws. She’s not against coming to terms with yours if you’re willing to accept hers,” Theo explained, his wisdom too good for himself.

Draco looked away. Fear was more of a factor than he was willing to admit. Fear of the past and all the things he’d ever said to her. Of the nightmares, his death eater days, things he’d believed in and the profound damage it all did. Could she ever forgive him for those things? For any of it? 

Because despite their history and all the shit he’d done, there was something else about her. Their words burned like fire between them and the way their magic ignited even without the rings had to be more than just some charm. She was the first person he shared memories with and the first to ever stay with him after a nightmare. And oh how he had wanted to ask her to stay even longer. He swallowed hard. 

“Besides, what if she turns out to be the perfect witch for you?” Theo eyed Draco knowingly. Then he got up from his stool and gestured for Draco to follow. Draco just stood there, lost in his thoughts. He was staring at the ring, the silver a stark contrast against the marble. His chest felt close to bursting.

Theo walked back over and grabbed the ring off the table. He opened Draco’s hand and placed the ring in his palm, then closed Draco’s fingers around it. Draco’s magic pricked at it. “Come on, loverboy. We aren’t much help just sitting around.” 

Draco wanted to sneer, but couldn’t. There was just too much truth hanging in the air to warrant it. He gave Theo a weak nod as he followed him to the door. As they walked down the corridor to the library, Draco could feel his magic pulsating. When they reached the door, he took a deep breath and slid the ring back on. 

…

Hermione, Ginny, Pansy, Luna, and Cormac were now sitting around the fire, their work on pause. Hermione reiterated for the third time the story behind Draco taking off his ring and her inability to. While Luna and Cormac seemed concerned, Pansy merely laughed. 

“Is this really that big of a deal? So Drake got cold feet, what do you expect?” she said casually. “ He was conditioned to sling slurs and now he can’t hide behind words or wands. We’re grown up and he’s starting to see you as a person, someone compatible with him nonetheless. It’s not like he has the range to reconcile that.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to tell me he took it off… because he’s afraid of me?” she asked. Ginny snorted. 

Pansy just shrugged, a smug look on her small face. Hermione felt her own irritation growing. Malfoy had been nothing but cordial, flirtatious even. Why would he be afraid?

“Afraid of catching feelings for you, I think is what she meant,” Cormac tried. Hermione felt her magic give a lurch. Feelings or no, it still bothered her he took it off. And she couldn’t stop the worry from creeping inside her of his true intentions. Pansy’s words bothered her more than she cared to admit. 

She tried to push their unique situation out of the picture. “But that doesn’t explain why he can take the ring off and I can’t.” 

Luna gave a quizzical look. “So Malfoy and Ginny can take theirs off, what about us? We’ve never tried,” Luna said to Pansy then. Pansy raised her eyebrows and looked down at her ring finger. She wiggled the silver ring off with ease and held it up. 

Luna watched Pansy put hers back on before Luna tried her own. It also came off. “Strange,” Luna said, looking at Cormac. He straightened and pulled at the silver ring on his own ring finger. It wouldn't come off. He tried several more times before he gave up with a frown. 

“So, what do we, and Draco, all have in common that lets us take these things off?” Pansy asked, looking from Luna to Ginny. 

\\{“?;  
[It was Luna who spoke, her usually gentle voice quiet and serious. “We’re all purebloods.” 

The color drained from Hermione’s face. Cormac’s eyes had widened and Ginny had actually put a hand to her mouth. Pansy stood too fast, winced, and proceeded to go over to the fire whiskey on the table, looking incredibly irritated.

“Shit,” she mumbled as she poured herself a large glass. “Shit. I should have seen this coming.” Pansy was already pouring a glass for each of them when she turned to look at the group. Her eyes landed on Hermione. 

Hermione still hadn’t moved. It wasn’t just the realization of the rings. Her cheeks felt hot as she stared at the glowing metal on her hand. It was almost painful as the power of the magic coursed through her so suddenly after being absent for so long. A wave of fear reached her and sent a shiver down her spine, and then something that felt like hope.

Her eyes shot to the door and in that moment, Draco and Theo walked into the library. 

… 

Draco froze. The pain he’d grown accustomed to feeling ever since taking the ring off was quickly fading. And in its place something much more dangerous was finding a home. Their magic crashed together through his veins and he was hit with a flood of emotions and fire.

It had been days since he’d actually felt their magic connect like it had at the Ceremony. Last night had been close, but now with the ring back on, it was like his magic couldn’t handle the sudden closeness. It made his breath catch as he tried to find her amongst all the books and armchairs. 

When he spotted her mass of curls his mind finally reminded his lungs of what to do and he sucked in air. The sound made Theo turn. “You alright?” Theo asked under his breath. 

“Yeah it’s…” Draco swallowed, feeling his heart in his throat. “It’s nothing.” 

Theo eyed him curiously then followed Draco’s gaze to Hermione seated in an armchair near the fire. Theo just shook his head and laughed, and walked towards the group. 

“Well, searching the Manor was a bust, and not just because we didn’t make it much further than the kitchen,” Theo stated as he took a glass from the ones Pansy was currently filling. She glared at him. 

“You’re useless,” she hissed as she waved her wand for more glasses. Theo just smiled and grabbed another one. He walked over to Cormac and handed it to him. Cormac was still frowning but he took the glass eagerly. His body relaxed at Theo’s approach.

Hermione was staring at Draco. He was still standing by the door and it was like she was seeing him for the first time. Something about the way his magic was pouring off him was like being dumped with a bucket of cold water. All of the previous times their magic mixed was nothing compared to this and she knew why before she even saw his hand. Her ring was still glowing and she could feel her pulse racing. 

He finally seemed to decide to join them. Draco walked slowly, not looking at her; instead, he headed for the table where Pansy was pouring drinks. He took one with a shaking hand and downed it easily. Pansy refilled it and he grabbed another before turning. 

Ginny watched Malfoy and Hermione nervously. Draco crossed the short distance between them and held out one of the glasses to her. Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. His silver ring glittered brightly in the firelight as she took the whiskey from him. 

Then Draco turned away and walked over to the fire before she could say anything. His magic was running wild under her skin and the mixing emotions came at her one after another. Hints of fear and doubt bubbled up under all the others and it made her worry again. 

She glanced at Ginny, whose normally sharp features were alert with curiosity. Hermione’s mind was flying with thoughts of Draco, his emotions, and what it could mean if he truly was afraid of her. She couldn’t think of anything logical to do, until she remembered the cold glass in her hand. She downed the fire whiskey much too easily. 

“Theo, can you take your ring off?” Luna asked then, breaking the silence. Draco didn’t seem to move. 

Theo looked confused. “Well, I haven’t tried,” he said, but as he looked around the room he could tell it was the source of their discomfort. He gave his glass to Cormac and wiggled at the ring on his finger. It slid off after a small tug. 

Theo showed it to the group. As he was replacing it on his finger, Hermione just huffed. “Figures,” she said, getting up and going over to one of her many piles of papers. She started reading again, holding the empty glass under her arm. 

“What? Why’s it matter I can it off?” Theo looked from Cormac’s frown to Ginny’s uneasiness to Pansy, who was sneering. 

“Purebloods, that’s who can take the rings off,” Pansy stated, sipping from her glass. Draco tensed, his grip on his glass about to break it. He turned from the fire, but he still didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t look at any of them. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” Theo said, looking at Cormac. Cormac shook his head sadly. Theo stood up and began to pace. “Fuck.” 

Hermione chanced a glance at Malfoy. His features had gone cold. A sneer made its way across his face and he had curled his left hand into a fist so the ring was no longer visible. She could feel a steady mix of fear and worry and anger. 

As she stared, he finally raised those gray eyes up to meet hers. She held his gaze for a moment but it was devoid of any soft feelings for her, even his magic seemed to shrink away. She went back to the papers, deciding to let the tension build. 

...

No one spoke for quite a while. Pansy flitting between looking at papers and snapping ideas at Hermione of what her mother could have possibly been planning. Cormac mediated, trying to keep Pansy from taking out all her anger on the wrong person. It was her mother she was mad at, not Hermione. 

Hermione continued to work, taking help anywhere it was offered. She couldn’t seem to get her mind away from whatever conflict was now happening between her and Draco. Why were Pansy’s words getting to her so much? She wasn’t starting to like Draco after all the time spent together these weeks, was she?

Ginny was Hermione’s go to, as she was used to the chaos of Hermione when she was researching. Plus, she was much too on edge with Harry not being around. Her leg tapped on the floor incessantly as she read from one of the arithmancy books by the fire. She had already made a house elf send another owl to Harry. Luna wandered about, muttering charm combinations and looking for books. 

At some point, Theo ended his pacing by her side. He looked over her shoulder, pointing out a few places to link together her ideas based on information he remembered. She was grateful. 

Once Malfoy had stared at the fire for long enough he had slithered over to her too, but only for a moment. It was obvious he couldn’t stand to stay in her vicinity too long. Proximity was a part of their bond even without the rings and now it was overpowering. Whether from the magic or his emotions, she didn’t know but he grabbed a couple papers, waved a hand to refill her fire whiskey, and disappeared up the stairs. 

Theo wandered over again shortly after. “I take it putting the ring back on isn’t exactly helping yet, is it?” 

“What makes you say that?” Hermione said harshly, scribbling something on the parchment in front of her. It was the third time she’d seen a reference to subject zero when going through early trials of the runic rites. She wondered who this person was and where they were now… 

“Look, I was only trying to help. It was hurting you both, him not wearing it.” Theo stated, flipping a page. “He’s pining over you, you know. He’s just shit at showing it.” 

Hermione gave a short laugh. “That’s rich. Especially since Pansy told me earlier how afraid of me he is. I know his flirting and niceties has all been a game now, you can cut the crap Theo.” 

Theo blinked at her. “Pansy said that?” 

“Yes, and I can feel it anyway,” Hermione said, waving her ring at him, “so I doubt he’s starting to have feelings for me.” She looked at the paper that Theo had set down. 

Theo wanted to laugh. “And when did you start listening to Pansy?” 

Hermione blinked at him, incredulous. “I- I don’t, but it’s hard to deny the rings and-” 

“She’s just trying to rile you up, she loves to start things,” Theo cut in. “You’re the brightest witch of our age, I thought you had the sense to follow your instinct on that. And I know fear can’t be the only emotion he’s giving off Granger. I saw how he looked at you. He’s pining, whether you can handle it or not.” 

Hermione looked away, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. She did feel foolish, now that Theo pointed it all out. Underneath all Draco’s fear and anger was hope and something close to longing. She considered last night and how much she had wanted to hold him in her arms and make the nightmares go away.

But she couldn’t stop the small pang of worry in her chest. Pansy had known about Draco being reluctant before Hermione had ever felt it. Maybe her emotions were just heightened from the rings and the bond, but something about Draco possibly not accepting her as a suitable partner was making her go crazy. 

Theo watched her, watched the cogs turning in her mind. “Maybe you should just ask him the truth, Granger. I’m sure he’ll surprise you. He’d never lie to you.”

Hermione’s face was solemn as Theo patted her on the shoulder. He grabbed a stack of parchment and his glass and walked over to where Cormac sat crouched over the coffee table. He sat beside him and got to work, leaving Hermione alone. 

… 

It was past midnight and Hermione was still scratching up the pages in front of her. House elves had come and brought food, but Hermione hadn’t touched it. She had begun to track all the experiments and trials to form some sort of timeline. She figured it would help them determine exactly what strain of the diagnostic and binding was placed on them. 

It seemed subject zero suffered through it all. They had been documented in the first group of individuals to get the prototype of the diagnostic and then again by themselves in multiple side trials for the binding. 

Hermione even found a few pages in Lucius’s hand. The first few documented all of subject zero’s side effects of three different experiments related to dependency, battling, and fertility. The next were spells he wanted to try out on the person. 

The rest were notes about attempting to extract magic from “useless mudbloods,” as Lucius so eloquently put it. The subjects, whom he didn’t even name, all died miserably. She was disturbed by it all, but almost wasn’t surprised. Oh how war changes you. 

Hermione was still writing when she felt her magic shift. Draco had suddenly reappeared, carrying a thick black bound book. “Here,” he said, tossing it on top of all her papers and grabbing for the fire whiskey bottle. Hermione’s brown eyes flashed at him and Theo looked up from the papers in his lap. 

“It’s one of my father’s journals. Found it with all the other dark arts shit upstairs,” he stated. “You’re going to want it.” 

He poured himself a large glass of liquor and took an empty seat closest to the fire. He wouldn’t even look at Hermione. Just sucked on the liquid in the glass and stared at the fire. Theo watched him anxiously. Theo’s gaze drifted over to Hermione every so often. 

Hermione could feel her magic starting to roll. And Draco’s was there in the background, annoyingly constant. It reminded her of all the things Pansy said to her and her anxiety was rising all over again. And then she thought of all the things Theo had said to try to talk some sense into her. She looked at Draco, still brooding by the fire and almost couldn’t take it. 

Hermione sighed and pushed back from the table piled with papers, ignoring the book. Ginny was asleep in one of the arm chairs in the corner and Cormac had gone up to some spare room on Theo’s suggestion, but Luna looked up at the sound. She watched Hermione walk the length of the room and disappear out the doors. Pansy was nowhere in sight. 

Draco was still staring at the fire as he felt Granger’s magic trickle away. He wasn’t going to do anything about it, but then he felt her magic grow anxious, uneasy. It made him turn, but she was already gone. The uneasiness settled miserably in his stomach and it was enough to make him take action. 

Draco stood, downed the rest of the whiskey, and headed for the door. But before he could formally exit, the last person he expected to see entered and Draco stopped dead in his tracks. Her hair in a tight bun and her emerald robes swirling, Professor McGonagall walked towards him. 

“Good evening Mr. Malfoy,” she said. "I believe I can be of assistance."


	20. Fights and Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McGonagall runs this shit, Draco is an idiot, and some feelings are finally laid bare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start this off by stating my overwhelming appreciation for all the readers that have been waiting so very very patiently. I am so so sorry that it has taken me so long to this update here. Life has gotten the best of me lately and I wanted to make sure this was perfect. I am still unsure but hopefully, the six million times I rewrote it will pay off. Fingers crossed. 
> 
> Please enjoy and from the bottom of my heart, thank you<3

Draco was pinching the bridge of his nose as he listened to his old professor speak. Was it in bad taste to grab for the fire whiskey bottle in the center of the table? Merlin, he needed a drink, thinking about his feelings, his father, and the Clarity Project all night was doing him in. Not to mention Granger’s magic fluttering unevenly in the background. Where the hell had she gone off to anyway? 

Theo was standing beside him, his arms crossed and his features drawn. Luna had taken a seat next to McGonagall at the table. The older woman had her hands clasped in front of her. She had already told them how she had been in touch with Hermione and that was why she was here now. With the increase in the golden robed witches and wizards and Ernie’s and Susan’s disappearances, the Order was getting restless. 

“After the war, the Order was tasked with some of the recovery responsibilities that the Ministry couldn’t or didn’t want to take care of,” McGonagall explained. “That included all the collective action of our spies, allies, and members, living and deceased.” 

“Severus Snape, as you all well know, was acting as a double agent under Dumbledore’s orders,” McGonagall’s voice was steady, but Draco felt his throat go dry.

His hand slowly lowered from his face and it found its way to his left forearm. He scratched at the dark mark as he stared at the floor. Theo glanced at him, but when McGonagall cleared her throat, Theo turned his attention back to her. 

“Severus’s house was turned over to us a few years ago but no one has gone through it until now, mostly because it was so well warded,” McGonagall stated, “however, I believe we have recovered some valuable information that Severus was using to track the progress of something the death eaters called The Clarity Project.” Draco looked up at this and Theo let out a heavy sigh. 

“We are aware of it, unfortunately,” Theo said before Draco could open his mouth. Draco glared at him. “We believe it’s where whoever made this law got their idea.” McGonagall gave a nod. 

“That is what the Order concluded as well. Good to see you all managed to receive some sense of an education despite the unprecedented school years you had,” McGonagall said. Luna chuckled until McGonagall shot her a stern look.

“Anyway, as I told Miss Granger many days ago, this law was not just some way to increase magical ability in society. There is something dangerous happening, right under our noses. And the Order doesn’t wish to stand around while it approaches.” 

“Technically she’s Mrs. Malfoy now,” Luna pointed out, much to Draco’s chagrin. “Pansy and I managed to salvage a bunch of research from Parkinson Estate before it burned down. Hermione has been heading most of it, obviously. But she walked out right before you arrived Professor.” 

Luna’s easy gaze made its way to Draco, as if he would have some idea of where his wife had gone. He could still feel Granger’s magic and from the way they’d been acting these past few hours, he wasn’t sure he was the right person to go look for her. McGonagall shifted her gaze to him, following Luna’s lead. 

The Professor studied him with that critical look she always gave when she was warning a person of what they should or should not be doing. It was unnerving. Draco finally broke and reached for the fire whiskey. Theo gestured for a glass too, avoiding McGonagall’s cold eyes. 

“Not to worry Miss Lovegood. I believe Mr. Nott and Mr. Malfoy are plenty capable of going to find Hermione, as soon as they finish their ultimately untimely acquisition of beverages.” McGonagall eyed them much like she would in their youth and both men seemed to take her statement seriously. 

Their glasses abandoned, Theo and Draco were in the hallway in no time. “How did she even get in here, I adjusted the wards just hours ago,” Draco was saying, walking much too fast. Theo hastened to keep by his side. 

“Maybe she found a way around it, it is McGonagall we’re talking about. Do you think the floo works with cats?” Theo asked seriously. Draco gave a short laugh. 

“Honestly I’ve never checked that,” he said, heading down the hallway. 

“That or Granger told Ruby to make sure McGonagall could get through,” Theo said, eying Draco with raised eyebrows. Draco sighed. “What’s with you two anyway? I thought the rings would help, but Merlin it’s like living with my parents all over again.” 

“Don’t say that,” Draco said too quickly. Theo laughed. 

“Seriously though, you don’t have to turn the charm off now that you’ve admitted you like her,” Theo said, as he opened the nearest door to their left. “That’s counterproductive for you, actually.” 

Draco shut it before Theo could enter. “She’s not going to go wandering at this time of night, idiot. And I haven’t turned off any charm, it’s just… complicated,” he settled with, feeling his magic reaching for her annoyingly. 

Theo raised an eyebrow. “Complicated? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yes,” he said through his teeth. “When all I feel is her irritation everytime I’m around, it makes you start to think the charm isn’t doing its job,” Draco drawled, his own annoyance picking up. He steered them in the direction of the study. 

Hermione was not inside, but it appeared that Draco already knew that. He went straight for the liquor cabinet. Theo sighed and took the glass Draco offered him. 

“Look, Pansy fed her some bullshit earlier, it’s got her all turned about. I told her it was stupid, it’s Pansy trying to rile her up,” Theo explained, “but I don’t know. She said whatever you were sending out wasn’t convincing either. Merlin, you two really can feel everything, huh?” 

Draco merely nodded. “Much more than I was expecting, that’s for sure.” His grip on his glass tightened. He could feel the weight of this whole situation pressing on his shoulders. He drank down the whiskey quickly, as if he could burn away all the emotions. His throat seared but he refilled the glass with a flick of his wrist anyway. 

Theo waited for him to say something, but Draco just swirled the ice in his glass. “Should we keep looking for her? I don’t want McGonagall up my ass because we can’t do a simple task as locate the Golden Girl.” 

“She’s in her room,” Draco said cooly, finishing his second drink easily. “And I’m not going to be the one to gate crash.” 

“How do you know she’s there?” Theo asked. Draco flashed his ring with a bitter glare. “Oh. Right.” Theo glanced at his own ring then before he downed the rest of his whiskey too. He sighed miserably. 

“McGonagall’s right. The Clarity Project, the binds- it’s just the beginning, isn’t it?” Theo stated darkly, staring at the flames in the fire. 

Draco nodded. “Our fucking parents can’t just leave well enough alone.” 

Silence filled the room, the implications of being magically bound to someone standing over them, ominous, getting comfortable now. All the uneasy anticipation leading up to the Joining Ceremony had faded, and with it the easy, flirtatious days after. All that was left with the stark truth of being bound and whatever consequences would follow.

And for Draco, that meant trying to forget the connection, the small trace of desire lingering in the background, raising the question- was it all the bind or were these feelings his? They felt chillingly real. His magic pulled when he thought of her. It was daunting. 

But the silence was interrupted then. Both men’s heads snapped to the door. There was a tumble and the roar of flames in the hallway. And then Draco didn’t have time to think about being bound to Granger. Theo had his wand out. Draco set his glass down hard. He stood and pulled out his own wand and Theo followed him right out the door.

Draco and Theo skirted around the corner much faster than the individuals who had just come out of the floo expected. Their bags had fallen to the ground in their shock, their hands in the air as Draco pointed his wand right at Ron’s throat. 

Draco didn’t even hesitate. “Well, well, well, didn’t think I’d see you here so soon, Weasley. Not still avoiding the public enjoying married life?” his sneer could be heard in the way he spoke every syllable of Ron’s last name. Theo winced. Daphne was standing at Ron’s side, glaring. This was not what Draco’s foul mood needed. 

“Oh shut it and quit the dramatics Malfoy. My sister needs me, get out of my way,” Ron tried to nudge at the wand, knowing it very well could be his last move. But he didn’t care. They had finally managed to get over the border from France after his last game and Ginny’s five owls were still wreaking havoc in the locker room and his flat. 

Draco clicked his tongue and slowly pocketed his wand. “You do realize you just walked into my house, correct? Your barbaric ways of requesting things do not entice me. At least have the courtesy to owl your bloody sister back, or Granger. We’ve all been waiting.” 

Ron had lowered his hands and was dusting at his robes. He looked exhausted, the mud of the quidditch pitch still fresh on his boots. When he finally looked up at Malfoy, his face was red with anger and he clenched his teeth like he was biting back a retort. 

Daphne seemed to beat him to it. She stood, her pretty lips sneering and her hands on her hips. “What the hell Draco. Ron had a game in Marseille and in case you haven’t left the manor lately, the golden company has taken over all travel affairs! They questioned us to no end and we only just managed to get out of their hair by sneaking off thanks to Ron’s ingenious idea of transfiguring ourselves into an elderly couple,” Daphne crossed her arms across her chest. Ron’s features lessened their severity at her compliment. He shot her a small smirk. 

Draco had taken a step back and narrowed his gaze at her. “You could have at least tried to contact us, either one of you. Potter’s not back either, his sister’s losing her shit and I don’t want to put up with it. Granger’s already driving me up a wall.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. 

“Draco, shut it,” Theo said then, stepping forward. He had already put his own wand away and was reaching out to pull Daphne’s bags upright. “You haven’t dealt with shit, you’ve been too busy sulking in your own misery.” 

A laugh flashed across Daphne’s features, but she quickly smothered it. Ron had turned back to Draco. “Hang on. What did you say about Hermione? You best not have said anything to hurt her, I’m warning you,” Ron’s face twisted and suddenly he was searching for his own wand among his team travel robes. 

Draco seemed the only one to notice Daphne flinch at Hermione’s name on her husband’s lips. He smirked. “Unfortunately I haven’t. But if I do, I’ll be sure she alerts you personally. Then I can watch her kick your ass instead.” Daphne glared at him. 

Ron looked livid, not bothering to find his wand. He had cut across the short distance of the foyer to Draco and stood in front of him, only an inch taller. “Malfoy, you better shut your bloody mouth.” 

“Or what?” Draco said casually, as he watched Ron ball his hands into fists. Daphne and Theo exchanged nervous glances, but neither knew what to do. Daphne walked over to Ron and placed a hand around his fist. 

“Come on Ron, don’t,” she stated firmly, but it was no use. He didn’t budge from his spot in front of Draco. 

“No, Hermione’s my… friend,” Ron’s hesitation almost went unnoticed, “and I have the obligation to make sure her marriage doesn’t turn into a shitshow thanks to a bloody slytherin who can’t wrap his head around how great he’s got it.” 

Draco frowned. “Now that’s not very nice, Daph is right there. She’s a slytherin and you aren’t trying to make sure she knows how great she’s got it,” he said, gesturing to the incredulous look on his wife’s face. Daphne let go of Ron’s hand easily and Theo pulled her away. 

Theo eyed Draco warningly, but it didn’t help. Draco couldn’t resist; he was already gloating. “Don’t get too hung up in the past there, Weasley. I know I’ve got it great, it’s Hermione Granger we’re talking about. What a way to get my reputation in check, couldn’t ask for better. Not to mention how much she’s grown into her looks these past few years, am I right? She deserves the best,” he paused, “Good thing we were paired then, huh?” 

Theo dropped Daphne’s hand when he saw it, but he wasn’t quick enough. And Draco was too busy laughing to really comprehend. But Ron’s fist came fast and Draco couldn’t have moved from the blow of it even if he had tried. His jaw exploded in pain. He staggered back, opening and closing his mouth several times to dissipate the sting. 

Draco only hesitated a second. He didn’t care if it was juvenile. Hell, he knew it was juvenile and he knew Granger would be pissed when she found out, but he didn’t care. Weasley was the perfect target and he’d already instigated. The alcohol certainly didn’t help. And in that moment, Draco didn’t feel Granger’s magic come to life under his skin. He just readied his own fist and hit Ron back. 

...

Hermione had finally fallen asleep. While her dreams drifted from peaceful to turbulent, she was at least avoiding the anxiety that seemed to hang in every corner of every room. 

At first she dreamed of blonde hair and muggle storybooks and his smile. But then the dreams turned dark, nightmares twisting their way into her mind. Death eaters in their circles plotting, the ring crushing her finger in a dangerous curse. She screamed and screamed, the death eaters laughing all the while. And when it seemed like it would never end she jolted awake, sweating. 

It was just past three in the morning as she blinked at the clock on the wall. Normally Hermione would have just shook off the nightmares, taken a few minutes to breathe and think logically about the non reality tumbling around her mind. But the second she sat up, Malfoy's magic hit her like a curse to the chest. 

His magic was suddenly alive and aggressive, pushing at every muscle in her body. She froze. Malfoy’s agitation from earlier was obviously escalating. It came in edgy waves along with his anger. And it almost seemed like he was in danger, yet she had no idea why. Until she considered the last time he’d felt this way; he had been stumbling down the stairs, his mind messy with his own evil nightmares. Hermione jumped out of bed then and fumbled for her wand. 

The last thing Malfoy needed was to wander around the manor on his own and wake up alone, the tension between them be damned. She yanked on a sweater as she rushed out the door and past his closed one, knowing by his magic he was already downstairs. Hermione made her way from the stairs to the front foyer before she stopped, her jaw dropping.

It wasn’t a nightmare, but she almost wished it was. Theo was standing in front of a sneering Malfoy, keeping him from Ron. Ron’s bloody nose was pouring down the front of his orange Chudley Cannons robes, but he was too busy shouting obscenities. He had his wand out and didn’t notice as Hermione waltzed right up to him and snatched it up. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she seethed, taking Ron by surprise. He stumbled backward into the mantle. 

“Hermione! I-,” Ron started, but he didn’t have it in him to explain. He reached up to his nose then, as if realizing it was bleeding for the first time. 

“Don’t,” Hermione stated, taking her own wand out. Ron didn’t flinch at the snap of the bones back in place, but he grit his teeth and looked at the ground. When Hermione was done he looked around for Daphne, as if it was a safer bet, but she was nowhere in sight. 

Hermione didn’t bother scourgifying Ron’s robes as he shifted his weight back and forth with an apologetic frown. Instead, she turned back to the other two men in the room. Theo had Malfoy backed against the opposite wall. Upon closer inspection, a Protego was cast between them and it was clear Malfoy wasn’t taking kindly to it. 

His chiseled features were twisted into a snarl behind the shimmering shield, but he hadn’t reached for his own wand. Brilliant purple bruises bloomed on his jaw and his right eye. Hermione walked over to them and Theo stepped out of her way willingly. 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Draco said, his sarcasm sinking into a saccharine smile. He let his magic melt into her, unable to rein it in. She ignored it. 

Hermione glanced at Theo. He had his arms crossed and the look of annoyance on his face told her everything. She turned back to Malfoy. “What the hell were you thinking, picking a fight with Ron?” 

When Draco just shrugged, her eyes turned cold. “Do you even care about me and my friends or do you just hope you’ll be able to convince enough people that being scared of the Golden Girl is enough of a reason to be a piece of shit?” 

Draco seemed to tense at her words, her anger coursing through to him. She watched his mind turn for a minute. But when his lips finally parted to respond, Hermione cut him off. 

“I don’t even want to hear it,” she had already turned back to Ron and it made Draco’s anger flare. “And where have you been?” she said to Ron, trying to will her voice and her magic back to normal. Her anger tinged her words and she wondered if Ron could hear it, if Malfoy could feel it. 

Draco was still watching her behind the shield, skulking. She almost wished Theo had just stunned him. His magic was rolling and it was utterly annoying as it buzzed around inside her. She cursed the ring on her finger and their stupid, stupid bond. 

“Got stuck at the border,” Ron gruffed under the blood drying to his face, “had a game in France and those damn gold robes wouldn’t let us come back, asking a million questions,” he was looking at his knuckles. They were already swollen. “Questions that had nothing to do with why we were reentering England.” Ron looked up at Hermione then, his blue eyes begging her forgiveness. 

Hermione began cleaning his robes so she didn’t have to look. It broke her heart knowing how much he still cared for her. And not that she didn’t care for him, she loved him dearly, but it wasn’t in the same way as it once was. It wasn’t in a romantic way. And she knew Ron most likely wasn’t still in love with her. 

But the past was a dangerous place for him and he so easily fell right back to it, getting his mind all muddled. As if he’d forgotten the past year’s events, their breakup and the Ceremony, the minute her honor was on the line. She sighed, removing more blood. 

“You should have tried to send an owl at least, we could have helped. Plus, it’s dangerous just going off on your own, we don’t know what these bonds can do! We’ve been dealing with so many new breaks… We need your help, both of you,” she said, finally meeting Ron’s gaze. The emotion in them stung and she looked around instead. 

“Where is Daphne, anyway?” Hermione asked, eying the additional bags scattered around the room. She waved her wand and they set themselves up against the wall. 

“I screwed up, Hermione. Royally,” Ron said, straightening his robes and looking around at the trashed room. She handed him his wand back and he began to repair the vases that had been shoved off the mantle and straightening the rug. 

“Now that is true,” it was Daphne, and she rounded the corner with her arms crossed, Ruby at her heels. Ruby walked up to Hermione and peeked at Draco from behind her legs. 

“Is Master Draco in trouble?” Ruby piped up before she could stop herself. Her wide eyes reflected the charm Malfoy was still trapped behind. Theo finally chuckled. 

“Yes,” Hermione said, “Leave him.” Ruby looked almost taken aback at Hermione’s sternness. It was the first time she had given her such direct orders. Hermione could feel Draco seething at her words and it almost made her smirk. 

Daphne turned to Hermione. “What do you propose we do with these idiots?” 

Hermione almost laughed. Maybe she would end up liking Daphne more than she thought. “Why don’t you go find a spare bedroom. Ruby will assist you. It’ll be no use trying to sort things out tonight, we’ll all do better with a fresh night’s sleep.” Daphne nodded and grabbed Ron’s hand. Ruby bowed to Hermione and glanced one last time at Draco before leading the couple down the hall. 

Ron seemed willing to go with Daphne, if not totally embarrassed. They exchanged silent words before disappearing down the hall following the house elf. Hermione watched them head up the stairs, holding hands the entire time. That was a good sign, she figured, as she turned around and assessed what to do. 

“Granger,” Malfoy grumbled, his magic still coming at her in harsh waves. She locked eyes with him but it was just too much. She turned away. She knew if she stayed much longer she wouldn’t be able to find anything rational or nice to say. She could feel him still staring, but instead she addressed Theo.

“Theo, can you… deal with this?” she gestured to Malfoy without fully acknowledging his presence. The words felt cold in her throat and she pushed away Draco’s magic as it bit at her heart. 

Theo was now looking at the ceiling, as if some higher being would help him. “Fine, but you owe me Golden Girl, you owe me,” he said, giving her a small smile. Hermione sighed and returned it before heading for the door. 

“Oh wait,” Theo said, calling her back. She stopped reluctantly. “McGonagall’s waiting for you. In the library. We were supposed to be off fetching you, but well…” he trailed off. 

Hermione’s eyes flashed. “Am I the only competent one in this house anymore?” she said in exasperation and with that, she disappeared down the hallway. 

… 

Hermione walked into the library to a dim fire burning in the hearth. Luna was seated at the table, a small book on charms open in front of her. She smiled when she saw Hermione. 

“I thought Professor McGonagall was here,” she said to Luna as she approached the table. Her papers were still stacked in various locations around its top. 

Luna dog-eared the page she had been reading. “She was. You only just missed her. She said she only had a narrow window of time tonight and knew it would end up a wash. She’ll be back tomorrow, early.”

Hermione nodded and paced a few steps to the fire. It sizzled at her approach, Malfoy’s magic finally simmering in her veins. She stood there, letting the warmth wash over her hardened features and trying to calm her mind of all the thoughts still lingering. 

At first she had been furious; Draco had been foolish not to think about what the bond would do if he got into an altercation. Although, now that she thought of it, how could he have? They knew so little about their connection besides what they felt and how much the rings escalated it.

And she hadn’t even found out who had started the fight. Ron had been fresh off the quidditch pitch and who knew how many hours they’d been held up at the border. The rage of the game, Ginny’s multiple owls, plus little sleep told her any little thing Malfoy said probably set Ron off. And she didn’t even have to ask to know Malfoy most certainly said something to provoke him. 

Hermione sighed. Whether it had been on purpose or not or whether Draco started it, it didn’t really matter. He knew how much it would upset her, to have him fight with one of her best friends and he hadn’t really seemed to care. His magic had said it all. She swallowed, feeling the realization of how much it hurt her. 

Luna cleared her throat then and Hermione turned slowly. “McGonagall did leave this for you,” she said, holding up another stack of papers. “Said you’d find them useful.” 

Hermione came over at once to inspect them. She stood, flipping one after another before finally taking a seat. McGonagall had been right, they were useful, Hermione knew just how. And it would be an excellent distraction. 

…

Theo had his arms across his chest and a new glass of fire whiskey in his hand. He stared proudly at Draco through the shield. “You know, you ought to be nicer to me, I’m on your side after all.” 

Draco put his hands against the shield even though the magic bit at his palms. “I don’t care whose side you’re on, I don’t appreciate being held captive. Now let me out. Now.” 

It had been a good fifteen minutes since the others had left them and Theo seemed to contemplate the situation once again. “I’m still not sure, you seem volatile. Why don’t you practice some deep breathing, no?” Theo smiled as he sipped his glass. 

Draco wanted to punch him too. “Look, I’m not going to slug anyone, except maybe you, and I’m not about to run after her. She made sure I know she’s pissed. I’m a dead man walking, that route.”

Theo considered this. “McGonagall might stop her.” 

“Might,” Draco said flatly. “But I think we both can agree I was never one of McGonagall’s favorite students.” 

Theo nodded in agreement and finally took his wand out. He paused with the tip on his palm. “You going to behave? Bond and all?” Draco rolled his eyes and nodded. Theo vanished the shield and Draco finally stepped away from the wall. He inspected his palms for any traces of magic or the fight. 

“That was not your brightest moment,” Theo stated, waving his wand to straighten the logs by the fire that had been tossed aside in the quarrell. “Nor was it helping your case with Granger.” 

Draco sneered. “Obviously. It wasn’t my intention to fight Weasley, but it also wasn’t my intention to find him in my foyer at 3 in the morning. He had it coming.” 

“Well, when you finally speak to her, I would avoid phrasing it that way,” Theo suggested, raising his eyebrows. Malfoy gave a huff of annoyance. 

“Years ago you’d have been cheering me on against Weasley,” Draco scoffed, rubbing his jaw where he could feel a bruise had formed. “These Gryffindors have made you so soft.”

“Well, when select Gryffindors are involved I am anything but soft, Drake,” Theo smirked knowingly. Draco just rolled his eyes. “What? Not got that cock of yours twitching for Granger’s lovely thighs yet? I bet that’s ‘complicated’ for you too, a muggleborn with a fuckable body.” 

Draco could feel his cheeks getting red. Leave it to Theo to bring sex into an already complicated affair. Sure, he’d thought about it, when he’d seen her in those silk pajamas and even sitting on the floor in the study with pages sprawled in front of her. And her dress the night of the Ceremony hadn’t been unflattering...

“Oh I hit the quaffle through the ring there,” Theo smirked, “You’re as red as Weasley was.” Theo was laughing so hard he almost didn’t see Draco leave the room.

When Theo finally caught up to him, he stopped laughing. “Seriously though, was that necessary? Letting Weasley get to you like that?” 

They had entered the study once again. Draco grabbed up the fire whiskey bottle from where they’d left it and slumped onto the sofa. He waved a hand for a glass and poured endlessly. 

“No, probably not,” he reasoned, sipping gingerly.

“Then what? You going to claim toxic masculinity and call it a night?” Theo asked, grabbing a glass to join him. 

“No,” Draco’s voice was sharp. “I just… it’s the way Weasley thinks he’s still with Granger. It’s so clearly obviously and Daphne just had to sit there and take it and-” 

“Don’t you mean, you had to sit there and take it? Come on, this isn’t about Daphne, although the poor thing doesn’t deserve a man still mixed up about who he should be standing up for,” Theo interrupted, taking a seat in an armchair. 

Draco sipped at his glass. He considered just how long Weasley and Granger had danced around a relationship at Hogwarts and then through a war until they could finally have it. It must have been utterly agonizing to realize they’d fought so long only for something that wasn’t going to last. 

Maybe that’s why Weasley was still so touchy about it, Draco thought then. Weasley must have figured if he couldn’t make her happy after surviving a war together, who could? The Golden Trio, always so bloody noble...

Ugh, was he sympathizing with Weasley? Draco shook his head of the disgusting thought and turned back to Theo. “Well, Daphne won’t be afraid to let him know, so no worries there.”

“And where does that leave you?” Theo asked then. “Weasley’s reaction is, in an odd sense, justified. But yours? You don’t exactly have any justification besides the fact you’re bound to her. Oh, and those little feelings we discussed earlier.” Theo smiled charmingly. 

Draco sighed. “I did it because I’m so fed up with all this nonsense! Who the fuck decided it was okay to magically bind two individuals together? Because all I want to do is defend her, protect her. Granger, I mean, and it’s all bloody crazy!” 

Theo looked curious. “Defend her from what? It’s Hermione Granger, not Millie Bulstrode and the Beauxbatons girls all over again.” 

Draco gave a weak laugh. “True. Granger’s got that Gryffindor bravery. But she shouldn’t have to have the Weasel sitting there on the sidelines ready to spring into action. He had his chance, now it’s mine. I care about her, care about hurting her, but it’s not like we aren’t going to argue. That’s sort of what we do.” 

“Touché,” Theo raised his glass. Draco returned it and they both drank. “Now if only you could tell her that.” Draco sighed again, his head falling back on the couch as he stared at the ceiling. 

Theo tapped a finger against his glass. “But frankly, can you figure it out already? It’s getting so exhausting watching you two and next time, I’m going to stun you.” 

“Fair,” Draco said, his eyes beginning to storm over as he stared at the fire. He waited a few more minutes before speaking again, his voice serious. “That was really fucking foolish.” 

“Mm-hmm,” Theo nodded. 

Draco sighed. “I have to go talk to her,” he realized, feeling her magic for the first time. It was humming in the background of his thoughts, still on edge from all the chaos she had just had to deal with. And the feeling made him uneasy. 

Theo seemed to chuckle. “Maybe you should have a few more first, really let the alcohol sink in. You tend to be more honest that way.” 

Draco grabbed for the bottle and refilled his glass. He downed it more easily than he should have. Theo blinked at him.

“Wish me luck,” he said, getting up from the couch. As Draco disappeared out the door, Theo held his glass up in salute. 

… 

Draco stepped into the cold of the kitchen. He had followed her magic here and it had grown more steady the closer he had come. The room was dimly lit for how late it was and Hermione’s silhouette was framed against the glass doors out to the veranda. It was nearly 4 in the morning. In her reflection he could see her arms were crossed, her lips a tight line. 

“You’re still upset,” Draco stated simply, the alcohol doing nothing for his tone of voice. He could feel the uneasiness in the air. She didn’t turn around. 

Hermione bit her lip. “You’re playing games with me Malfoy. First the ring, now this,” she said, and when she turned, his brow was furrowed against the black eye he now sported. “You can’t just go doing things because your emotions are screwed up.” Draco froze, not saying anything. 

Hermione stared at him, waiting. When he didn’t try to defend himself, she continued. “You weren’t thrilled at being paired with me, were you?” she could almost laugh hearing the words on her lips. Draco stared back at her, suddenly confused. 

When he still didn’t speak, she knew all her worries and fears were confirmed. What Pansy had said and all the doubt Draco had been sending out since putting his ring back on- like Draco Malfoy would have ever actually been interested in her. Or treated this as anything but some game. She should have anticipated this, but Merlin, why did she care? There was a tightness to her chest that she couldn’t quite place. 

“Well I don’t know if thrilled is the right word…” he started, but seeing her frown he sighed. “That’s not what I meant,” Draco tried to backtrack, searching for the right words, but she beat him to it. 

“You know, I believed you at first. Because until now, you’ve been acting like it’s a walk in the park, flirting every other word.” Hermione looked at him, a mix of hurt and distaste in her eyes. 

“But then I kept hearing your friends had to stick up in my defense, your mother even said she felt bad for me. And now all I’m getting from you is doubt and anger,” she gestured to the ring. “And you’re picking fights with my friends, what the hell Draco.” Hermione shook her head is disbelief. “I hope it’s all been worth it, because it’s been shit for me.” 

Draco let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. His magic began twisting just under his skin, anxious to join hers. He looked at her, saw the hurt written all over her face. And he couldn’t believe he had been so foolish. 

“Look, it was stupid, fighting Weasley,” Draco said, the vulnerability breaking across his face. “Idiotic and foolish and just, in bad taste. I am sorry. I could give you a million excuses, but none will sound good. Even the truth is sort of… lackluster.” 

Draco paused then and wondered if she could feel what he was trying to convey. He pushed his magic out to meet hers and with it went his guilt and regret. He didn’t know if it would work, but her magic released the littlest bit of tension and he was grateful for the bond for once. 

“I don’t know what you heard… I’m not overtly happy or angry or sad when it comes to our pairing. And I’m not treating it as some game,” he said, trying his best to come up with a way to explain why the doubt was eating him up inside. Hermione looked up at him then, her brown eyes searching his. It gave him the courage he needed. 

“I know I haven’t been shy about flirting with you, but then I didn’t take it any further. And it’s just because every time I think of us together, all I can think of is our past Granger. It’s just so… messy,” he sighed again and Hermione held her breath. 

“I may come across as some prophetically changed man, and I even tried to convince you of that. But I still have so much to be forgiven for, so much to deal with inside it’s... the newspapers don’t show that side of me. And that side, however ugly, showed itself tonight. I can’t always hold back and I worry about that now that I’m around you.” 

Hermione watched as Draco put a hand through his hair. His eyes revealed his honesty as the words tumbled out. “There’s so many potential problems, mostly because of me. No one wants me to fuck this up because honestly, you’re better than I deserve.” 

“Don’t say that,” Hermione found the words in her mouth before she could stop them. She put a hand to her lips and her magic seemed to jump out to him. He’d taken a couple steps closer to her and that didn’t help either. 

Their magic melted together and the combination seemed to calm them both. “Granger, it’s true,” Draco chuckled in spite of himself. “Regardless if you believe it. It’s almost ironic you don’t; always have to be so noble…” he seemed to stall and his voice grew low. 

“It’s easy for me to be charming. It’s in my nature, but once I start feeling something it’s… it’s hard for me to feel like I can have that,” Hermione felt her cheeks flush as he continued, “Especially with you. You’re Hermione bloody Granger for Merlin’s sake. Golden Girl, War Heroine, Brightest Witch of Our Age,” he gave her a bittersweet smile. “And I’m… just some washed up ex-death eater with too many problems.” 

Hermione stared at him a long time. She wanted to say something, to deny the astronomical good he placed upon her. She didn’t feel deserving of it; not after she had been wrong in all her assumptions. But shouldn’t couldn’t formulate the right words. His eyes stared back, a melting silver that seemed to engulf her. 

“The truth is, I’m scared,” Draco said. “Of falling for you, or worse, if I hurt you there’d be no going back. So that’s why I took the ring off and why I fought with Weasley. It’s why I’ve been- I was scared and… I’m sorry.” 

Hermione was quiet. She watched the man in front of her, almost in awe. She had been right, that Draco Malfoy was a different man than anyone she had been involved with before. But not for the reasons she originally believed. Her heart was in her throat. 

“It’s- It’s alright,” she said softly, feeling like she was seeing Draco for truly the first time. Hermione looked over his face, studying his purpled jaw and those high cheekbones. The real emotion in his words clung to his magic as it wrapped around her.

She thought about how soft his skin had felt and the flawed character underneath that he was trying so desperately to correct for. Her magic fluttered. “You’re... so much different than I ever expected. In all of this. I should apologize too, I haven’t exactly been… sympathetic. I’ve just been so on edge trying to come up with something in all this research… Merlin, I believed Pansy,” she rolled her eyes at own stupidity. 

Draco gave a chuckle that made her smile. He took it as a good sign. “Now that was just daft. Are you sure you're still the brightest?” he flashed a grin. Something about her calmness made his confidence rise. 

“Yes,” she reasoned and then her curiosity got the best of her. She thought back to what he had said about starting to have feelings for her, about falling for her. She couldn’t decide why it mattered. Maybe it was because this was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger, enemies for so long, or maybe it was because of the bond. Or maybe, it was because somewhere deep down, she was starting to feel it too. 

She felt her own heart race. “Did you actually say- were you serious about…” 

Her voice broke. She couldn’t even finish her sentence properly. But she didn’t have to. His magic turned to fire in her veins then. His stare pierced hers with those same brilliant gray eyes, confirming her question before he even nodded. The ghost of a smirk twitched at the corners of his lips. Hermione felt her breath catch. 

“I’m not- you can’t want me,” she stammered, the adrenaline racing through her. “It just doesn’t make sense. We are such opposites, not to mention my blood status, our history, the bond. The bond. It makes us so angry and we don’t know enough about it to really know what it’ll do to us. But it’s not like any of this is basis to date and it’s- it’s practically foolish.” Hermione felt her own words rambling despite her logical train of thought. 

The smirk spread across Draco’s face. He could feel her magic starting to consume him and he didn’t even care. “Well I was in denial for a while. The bond certainly doesn’t help, but I can’t give a curse all the credit. I’m charming as hell and I can tell you like it.” 

Hermione frowned. “Stop being so pompous, I’m serious Draco. You weren’t totally wrong in being scared here.” 

“I said I was scared. But to hell with that now. I don’t see it as a fool’s errand Granger,” Draco said seriously. “There’s a reason we were paired together, right? And damn, you are brilliant, successful, attractive. You know you’ve enjoyed these last few weeks together. Why not figure that out?” 

Hermione’s cheeks flushed scarlet. She couldn’t deny the truth in his words. She hadn’t stopped thinking about the conversations, the chance meetings, and that damn blonde hair. Draco’s magic seeped into her bones and wrapped around her chest. “You can’t be serious,” was all she managed to say. 

“Granger, would I lie to you?” he said quietly and he did something he wasn’t sure he was even ready to do. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. 

Draco cocked his head to the side and he looked her in the eye. Hermione shook her head slowly, feeling the dizzying power of their magic on his breath. His free hand reached up to tuck a curl behind her ear. His touch felt like wildfire, spreading down her neck until he let go of her hand all too soon. 

Draco took a step back, looking like he needed a chance to catch his own breath. She looked up at him, still interested. “I guess the question is,” he said, meeting her stare, “how do you feel about us?” 

Hermione thought about all the hell he’d been putting her through; the anger, the tense conversations, the mixed emotions. All the snarky comments and times he’d picked on her. Not to mention the bruises still marking up his face from the fight. 

And yet as she looked at him, she saw something else. A man with intelligence and wit and charm. While he was riddled with memories tainted with dark magic, he also had more to give than she originally had realized. So much lying, waiting under all that showmanship. And he was a man that was obviously starting to care about her. And maybe that was what she needed. 

Draco stood there watching her with those bright gray eyes. A smirk slowly curled at his mouth again and she knew he could feel everything she was realizing. The bloody bond. That damn smirk. She rolled her eyes at him then as she bit back a small smile. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“Yes, I am aware. I did say I was sorry,” he managed, still smiling. Hermione could feel his magic humming loudly. She began to pace, she couldn’t stand still, the magic and emotions tumbling around them. She knew Draco was still watching her.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? We can talk more in the morning. Besides, you look exhausted,” he told her, eying the clock on the wall and the darkness still covering the gardens outside. 

Hermione yawned without even realizing. “Okay, but don’t think I’m going to forget about tonight. Any of it,” she pointed a finger at his chest, but decided not to actually make contact. It felt too intimate after all they’d just shared. 

She eyed the bruises obviously then. “Any of it,” she said again and Draco turned away. The purple was getting darker by the hour. “Good night Draco,” she said, turning to leave. 

Draco leaned in the doorway as he watched her walk up the stairs. He didn’t turn away until she had closed the door behind her. He could feel the bruising on his face starting to ache, but he didn’t care. Her magic continued to hum and he stood there, taking it in.


	21. McGonagall's Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McGonagall shares her knowledge from the Order, Hermione contemplates her bond, and we discuss the runes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of an informational chapter, but worth it for the plot. Hopefully I can stick to this more regular, weekly schedule again (thank you double snow days lol)   
> Let me know anything you would like to see or hope to see! I'm open!

Hermione rolled over amidst a lush pile of covers. She had fallen asleep quicker than she’d expected, given the circumstances of the evening. She owed it to Draco’s magic lulling softly in the background, but once her eyes were closed it wasn’t long before the nightmares drifted in. She kept the dark thoughts of runes, war, and rings away long enough to give her only a few hours of restless sleep. 

But she got out of bed anyway. She knew McGonagall would be arriving as punctually as ever and they still had very little to go off of when it came to the binds, the Clarity Project, and anything in between. She had to make some kind of headway before then. So Hermione set out to do what she does best: research. 

Hermione managed to throw on a cozy sweater, get to the bathroom to wash her face, and brush her hair before she finally stared at herself in the mirror. Her own brown eyes blinked at her, her mind mixing the memories of last night with the fresh dangers of her dreams. 

She felt an overwhelming feeling of anxiousness wash over her then. Like all her decisions suddenly carried so much more weight now that she had decided to involve another person in them. Malfoy. She had decided to involve Draco Malfoy in her life. She had to remember that, it all had been real. 

And it wasn’t even like they’d done more than just admit to try this out. But her nightmares had been a stark reminder of just how dangerous caring for someone could be in the time of a war; flashes of faces, Lavender, Lupin, Fred, Tonks. She had to grab onto the sink to finally remind herself to breathe. 

Draco’s magic was barely alive under her skin and she figured he must be sleeping. She couldn’t push hers towards it in hopes of finding some peace; he needed sleep just as much as she did. And doing so would most certainly wake him. 

As she took several deep breaths over the sink, it felt almost too soon to reach out to him in spite of last night anyway. She finally calmed her nerves enough to finish doing her hair into a braid, despite her shaking fingers. And with that she grabbed her wand and headed for the door.

The house was quiet as she made her way down the stairs, pushing the nightmares out of her mind. The window above was frosted over with ice and it was just light enough to see the grounds. Hermione walked the hallway to the library, noticing the high arched ceilings for the first time. When she arrived, Ruby was waiting just outside the doors with a mug of coffee. She was wearing a tiny green sweater and matching slippers. 

“Miss is up early, she is.” When Hermione nodded, Ruby gave her the mug and bowed. 

“Thank you Ruby,” Hermione said, letting the steam curl around her face. “Any owls for us this morning?”

“Not yet, Mistress. They usually come around 8. Ruby will check for you though,” Ruby bowed. 

“Thank you, I’ll be in here,” Hermione said with a nod and entered the library. Her breath caught as she stood just inside the door. She had almost forgotten its splendor and, in the daylight, the library was that much more spectacular. 

Morning light filtered through the glass panels as high up as the eye could see and spilled onto the rich wood floors. Arches decorated the balcony in big sweeping pieces. The exquisiteness of the architecture and the wonderful calm of all the books set her soul on fire. It truly was a beautiful place. 

She walked over to the fire, where the embers burned low. The armchair that Ginny had previously occupied was now vacant, and Hermione wondered if Ruby had placed her friend in a spare bedroom for the night. Hopefully they’d hear from Harry today. 

Papers were scattered and stacked around, mostly from her doing, and it looked more chaotic in the dim light of early morning. She hated that McGonagall had to see it like this last night. The black journal Malfoy had brought her was lying in the middle, still untouched. A drawing board had been brought in at some point and Hermione recognized Draco’s handwriting across it. He’d begun to organize some of her notes. 

Her magic started to thrum with an underlying quickness she recognized as his. It was more noticeable than when she was upstairs and when she turned, she understood why. There was Draco, slumped in an armchair asleep, looking both calm and uncomfortable at the same time. 

His mouth was slack and his hair a mess, not quite the perfect gentleman he always put forward. His gray henley matched his skin tone, which looked cold in the stark morning light. The bruises on his face were already turning a nasty shade of blue. 

Without thinking, Hermione summoned a blanket from the basket near the fire. Quietly, she walked over and laid it over him. He seemed to curl into it, his features relaxing and it almost made her smile. She felt the color rise in her cheeks as he sighed and she turned away. 

Hermione walked over to the drawing board then, her mind already starting to teem with thoughts of last night’s conversation with the man behind her. She set her coffee down on the table, determined to get to work. Her gaze lingered over Draco’s elegant handwriting before she took out her wand and started at it. Malfoy’s magic stayed low and quiet all the while. 

…

It was just after eight when Ginny wandered into the library, her red hair a mess on her shoulders. One of Harry’s old Weasley sweaters was draped over her shoulders and Hermione smiled when she saw it. She scratched at her neck as she joined Hermione by the drawing board.

Hermione had filled in all the parts Malfoy had missed on the drawing board and was now standing back, looking at her progress. “Looks good,” Ginny said, “as good as a bloody marriage law could look. Is that-?” she pointed to a bunch of arithmancy formulas nervously. 

“The diagnostic spell,” Hermione said quietly. “Breaks down our magic into its parts for ‘purity’ purposes.” 

Ginny grimaced. “And all that?” she gestured to Draco’s handwriting. 

“Malfoy started putting together the runes of the bind based on my findings,” she said, keeping her voice even. Ginny nodded, looking uncomfortable. 

“You want to talk about him or?” she asked, grabbing Hermione’s coffee mug off the table and sipping at it. Hermione tilted her head in the direction of the armchair and then went back to the board. When Ginny turned, she had to put both hands to the mug to keep from dropping it. 

“Merlin, he’s like a bloody ghost all quiet and shit,” Ginny whispered then. 

Hermione shrugged. “At least his magic is sleeping too.” She tilted her head for Ginny to walk with her. She put some distance between them and the sleeping slytherin before she was going to speak again, but Ginny went first. 

Ginny glanced at him. “So what exactly is going on between you two? One minute Harry’s telling me you guys are fine and then next I see he’s practically his old self, sneer and all.” 

Hermione sighed. “He put the ring back on, that’s what. I was so overwhelmed with his emotion, all the fear and doubt, and then well...” she trailed off, remembering everything else. Then she thought about the fight. 

Ginny frowned. “You thinking Pansy was right? She’s never been the type to tell the truth Hermione. I know it’s Malfoy we’re talking about, but I don’t peg him as the scared type. Well, except during the battle of Hogwarts. Harry saved his ass more than once, now that I think of it. Right git,” Ginny said then, glancing at him again. She sounded a lot like Ron and Hermione just shook her head. 

“Pansy was only half right. I talked to Malfoy last night and well, he was scared but… not for the reasons Pansy suggested,” Hermione hesitated. “I don’t know why I ever believed her, not when there was so much more to it.” 

Hermione felt almost nervous repeating all this to Ginny, despite the fact they’d been good friends for so long. Something about revealing their shared vulnerability was getting to her. She grabbed a book from the shelf and flipped a page, as if she could avoid the rest of the conversation that easily. Ginny grabbed it from her and threw it back on the shelf. She crossed her arms and waited. 

Hermione sighed. “I never thought about how a bind with me would affect him. He’s putting so much pressure on himself and, I don’t know, I don’t know why I care so much but...” she felt her magic start to stir and almost looked in Draco’s direction. 

Ginny’s amber eyes searched her friend’s face. “Are you... starting to fall for the fallen death eater?” she asked quietly. 

Hermione let out a long, shaky breath. She didn’t know how to answer that. Was she falling for him? That seemed such a strong way of putting it. But when she glanced over and could just see his blonde hair over the back of the chair, her magic seemed to reach towards him. There was definitely something there.

“I- we- it was so late and I should preface that we only talked because he got into a fight first,” she said instead and Ginny stopped walking. 

“With who?” Ginny narrowed her eyes, already anticipating the answer.

“Ron and Daphne sort of, surprised him and Theo last night. It didn’t go well,” Hermione’s voice was low. 

Ginny blinked at her incredulously. “Go on, I’m listening. What did my idiotic brother do this time?” 

“It was physical, not magical. I don’t know if you saw the bruises,” Hermione pointed a thumb back at Draco. “I’m assuming Malfoy instigated it, but your brother was the first to throw a punch. I was trying to sleep and Malfoy’s magic woke me. When I got down here, Theo was holding them apart.” 

Ginny’s face grew cold. “Leave it to my bloody brother to start something the minute he arrives at someone else’s house.” She huffed and started pacing again. “Have you talked to them? Either of them? Did they give you some dumb excuse?” Ginny asked. She looked on edge, almost like she did before a quidditch match. Hermione wondered if flying would help her calm down. 

And then footsteps carried through the hallway. Ginny and Hermione turned to the doors. Expecting to see Theo or Luna or Pansy even, both girls blinked as the tall, prim form of Professor McGonagall strode towards them.

“Professor,” Ginny blinked, confused to find her here of all places. 

“Mrs. Potter, Miss... Granger,” Professor McGonagall said, hesitating as she looked at the two young witches in front of her. 

Hermione knew the reason for her hesitation; it wasn’t like people expected her to willingly go by the Malfoy name. No one called her by it. No one except Draco, although he seemed to do it more out of pure amusement than anything. 

McGonagall turned to her. “I apologize for leaving without a word last night, but as I’m sure you are aware, with this golden company on the loose and Kingsley still missing, Alastor’s keeping a tight schedule,” Hermione nodded and McGonagall gestured to an orange leather bag levitating at her side. “However, I have much to discuss concerning your situation with the law. Is anyone else here today that would benefit?” 

“Luna, Parkinson, Theo, Cormac, Malfoy,” Ginny listed on her fingers, “I think that’s everyone? Oh and Ron and Daphne now I guess.” 

The professor blinked. “And where are they all now?” she asked, taking a pocket watch out of one of her pockets and checking the time. 

Ginny shrugged. “Still sleeping I suppose. Malfoy’s here.” 

“Also sleeping,” Hermione pointed to the armchair by the fire. 

McGonagall’s face tightened. “And Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, hm? I assume taking careers in such lucrative fields means they are beyond their youthful days of sleeping in until noon.” 

Hermione wanted to laugh, but Ginny’s hands had turned into fists. “Harry’s still in Albania for all we know. He hasn’t returned my owls,” the anger rising in her voice. “And my brother seems to think it’s perfectly normal to floo to a friend’s house at 3 in the morning without so much as a bloody patronus.” 

“That will be enough, Ginevra,” McGonagall put a hand up. “I assure you I will have Alastor contact Mr. Potter. He has better luck getting through when aurors are in the field.” Ginny let her hands relax. 

“In the meantime, I suggest you wake the rest of the household. The information I have will be useful for all and we need to get to the bottom of this law so we can decide how to proceed. This is not a time for procrastination,” McGonagall warned, her words much like a list of rules she was issuing instead of advice.

“Yes Professor,” Ginny and Hermione replied together. Ginny was already walking towards the door to fulfill the Professor’s orders when Hermione pulled on her sleeve. Hermione snapped her fingers like she always saw Draco do and Ruby appeared by her side in seconds. 

“Ruby, can you please wake the others for me?” she asked and the elf nodded happily. “Oh, and can we have something for breakfast please?”

“Anything, Mistress,” Ruby bowed and snapped her own fingers. A tray of croissants with jam, fruit, and a carafe of coffee appeared on the nearest table. 

“Thank you Ruby,” Hermione smiled. “Do you know if there is a spell I need, so I can do it on my own? I don’t want to bother you every time.” 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “They like doing it Hermione.” 

But Ruby just grinned, tears appearing at the edges of her eyes. “Oh Mistress, we love serving you, tis no worry! None at all! But if you musts, Master Draco has the family spells yes.” 

“Thank you Ruby,” Hermione said, and the elf bowed her way out. 

“Mistress?” Ginny asked, giving a look of disgust. 

“I know, I hate it,” Hermione said. “She likes me too much though. I can’t break her heart by telling her not to call me it.” Hermione said miserably. McGonagall seemed to chuckle. 

“Ah, the nuances of being tied to old magic,” McGonagall said with a smile. “And here I would have thought you’d have freed them all already Miss Granger,” she eyed Hermione knowingly. 

Hermione smiled. “I’ve thought about it, don’t get me wrong.” 

“I sometimes miss the Hogwarts elves. They had the ability to brew the perfect cup of camomile tea, some while wearing those lovely hats,” she smiled at Hermione. “Anyway, let us get to work.” 

McGonagall straightened and gestured to the table where the drawing board and all the papers sat waiting.

...

“You should know, the Order is working around the clock trying to locate the Parkinsons and be of any assistance, should you need it,” McGonagall explained. She was seated at the table full of Hermione’s papers, a fresh cup of tea and the orange bag open in front of her. 

McGonagall had already made the table larger to accommodate both the number of papers and more chairs around it. So far, Luna was the only one who had wandered downstairs to join them. She didn’t mention if Pansy had been with her or not. 

Hermione left Malfoy asleep in the chair. He still had the blanket around him and he hadn’t stirred despite their voices. He seemed like he needed the rest; she had no idea when he had actually fallen asleep there. 

As McGonagall grabbed several papers from inside her bag, Ron and Daphne came around the corner. They weren’t acting particularly close as far as couples go, but they approached the table together. Ron gave a smile, sporting a brilliant purple bruise across the bridge of his nose. 

“Professor! Wasn’t expecting you to be here,” he said cheerily. Daphne almost rolled her eyes. 

But it wasn’t McGonagall that responded. Ginny was out of her seat and had already turned on her brother. “Oi, going to say hello to your own sister? Or you too busy taking photos after the big win? Wait until I get you alone. Harry’s not here either and I swear Ron, I’m this close to-” 

“Ginevra,” McGonagall warned. Ginny’s chest was heaving. “I’m sure he has a good reason for not getting in contact in the first place.” McGonagall let her steely gaze fall on Ron and he looked away. 

Daphne sighed. “The borders are all being watched, Professor. We tried to send an owl, I swear,” Daphne looked apologetically at Ginny. Ginny had crossed her arms but finally sat back down with a huff. 

“Those golden wizards are everywhere. Almost didn’t let us through,” Ron explained, putting an arm out for Daphne. She didn’t lean into it. Instead, she rounded the table and took a seat by Luna. 

McGonagall merely nodded. “Mad Eye and Percy have identified several of this new golden company of witches and wizards. They’ve made themselves quite public since the Ceremony.”

“They’ve been all over the Ministry,” Hermione said and Luna nodded. Hermione recalled all the times they’d blocked her from gaining access to the information she was looking for. Particularly with the bloodline analyst division of the Family Affairs Office. And then there was Kingsley...

“Alastor believes they are a new form of death eaters, a magical militia of some kind. Many low level death eaters that have since gotten released from their sentencing were discovered to be members. Professor Flitwick and Arthur Weasley are tracking the magic used by these individuals. It’s more powerful than we’ve seen in the past and it deserves some investigation,” McGonagall detailed. “I have a list of known members for you.”

Footsteps could be heard coming from the hall again, and the witches looked to the door when it opened. Theo, wearing only a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, had a look of utter annoyance across his face. He was busy tying a very loose robe around his waist to notice anything else. 

“Oi, what’s this sending a bloody house elf into my bedroom at quarter to nine in the bloody-” Theo was saying until his eyes met McGonagall’s. He promptly closed his mouth, wiped the irritation from his face, and replaced it with a smile. His hands fidgeted with closing his robe. Ron hid his laughter behind the croissant he was eating. 

“Ah, Professor, so nice to see you. If I would have known I would have taken more time to look presentable,” he nodded sincerely. McGonagall merely tilted her head curtly and went back to the papers laid out in front of her. Hermione watched Theo rub his forehead as he helped himself to the croissants before joining them. 

“I sent the elves Theo, it was time you all got up anyway,” Hermione said to him, “we have work to do.” 

“Figures,” the word came out under Theo’s breath so only Hermione could hear. “Cormac will be down any minute,” he said. “And where’s the prince of darkness himself, not bugging him to wake up early I see.” 

Hermione laughed. “Be my guest,” she gestured to where Draco still lounged in the chair. Theo looked over and scoffed. 

“I have to do all the shit jobs,” Theo stated, taking out his wand and leaning against the table. Luna and Daphne watched with interest. 

Theo moved his wand in small circles and slow, lazy stars made their way across the space. The first one landed on Draco’s nose, the next his cheek. Draco twitched and Hermione braced herself. The next one hit his neck, then his ear, and he shook awake rather abruptly. 

“What the fucking hell-” Draco yelled, his hand flying to his ear. Theo was snickering but Draco had already stood, his wand aimed in Theo’s direction. Then he spotted McGonagall, Hermione, and Luna and froze. Hermione eyed him, feeling his magic flare. 

“Professor,” he managed, pocketing his wand and pushing hair out of his eyes in a matter of seconds. His anger at Theo disappeared behind a mask of calmness so suddenly it threw Hermione off. His gray eyes became still and he stood there, but she could see him contemplating how and why he had been sleeping in the library and not his bed. 

McGonagall merely tsked. “While I do not agree with Mr. Nott’s methods, it was necessary. You would do well to hear this information and not sleep through it,” she stated. “Though next time I should hope you rethink your unnecessary use of profanity, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco nodded and blinked at the blanket still draped on his arms. He glanced at Hermione and by her not so subtle response he knew it was her doing. His mouth twitched and instead of removing it, like Hermione expected he would, he simply left it. It made a shiver go down her spine. 

Malfoy stayed outside the group, choosing to lean against the wall nearest the drawing board instead of taking a chair at the table. She watched him summon a cup of coffee with a wave of his hand. As he let the steam bend against his features, his magic reached out to her without him really noticing. It seemed to calm her nerves. 

Hermione shook her head then and turned back to McGonagall. “Any news on the Minister? The real Kingsley would have never let things escalate like this.” 

Daphne’s features tightened. “You really think…” 

“Oh we very much think that someone is impersonating the Minister, yes,” McGonagall said sternly. “The question is who. Alastor has aurors conducting raids, searching for the real Kingsley. There’s no way they wouldn’t take him alive. He’s too valuable an asset to anyone, good or not,” her mouth was a hard line. 

Draco finally looked up at this, feeling the uneasiness in the room. When he did, Theo was watching him intently. “Besides the Parkinsons, who else is on Mad Eye’s suspect list?” Theo questioned. 

“Perfect timing I’d say,” came Pansy’s voice from the doorway. She strode in with Cormac at her heels, already dressed in a black sweater, skirt, and boots. Cormac also seemed to have showered and dressed like he was about to go into the Ministry. He was straightening the lapels on his blazer and smiled at Theo when he saw him. 

It felt like they were showing up the rest of the group for having not made it their priority to be ready for visitors at any given moment. Cormac made to stand beside Theo, who eyed Cormac’s outfit incredulously. Pansy sat down ceremoniously beside Luna, glancing at the rest of the party with vague interest. She finally shrugged and turned to McGonagall.

“Nice of you to join us Miss Parkinson, McLaggen,” McGonagall’s voice articulated every syllable of their names. “To answer your question Theodore, the list is extensive. The most obvious suspects being the Parkinsons, with their arrival at the Ceremony and the destruction of their estate just last evening.” 

Pansy huffed at the mention of her parents. “Lucius Malfoy, as I am sure you all know, is,” McGonagall paused to glance at Draco who did not even flinch, “unaccounted for as well.”

Hermione felt her skin begin to crawl. She chanced a look at Draco and regretted it. His hand had balled into a fist on the blanket he’d now slung under his crossed arms. She could feel his anger rising. 

“In addition, Yaxley and Rowle have skipped on checking in with their probationary officers and Dolores cannot be located abroad, despite having been put in high security custody.” 

“Dolores?” Pansy asked, “Don’t tell me the Ministry put some old bat in custody. I don’t remember any Dolores on the death eaters side.” Cormac looked suddenly pale and Hermione frowned. 

McGonagall did not find Pansy very funny. “Perhaps you remember her better as Professor Umbridge, Miss Parkinson. Or maybe you had forgotten what an awful woman she truly was.” Pansy’s smirk fell quickly and ungraciously from her red lips. 

…

“So what do we know?” Pansy stated, sitting with her legs crossed in an armchair facing the drawing board. Cormac drank a cup of coffee beside Daphne at the table. 

McGonagall left them about an hour ago and the drawing board was now covered in information from Snape’s house. He had been a consultant for the researchers of the Clarity Project, so they essentially hit the jackpot. Luna was copying down runes from some of Snape’s papers; she was the best at deciphering his incredibly messy handwriting. 

Theo and Malfoy had both sulked off, Hermione assumed to shower and change clothes, but she only noticed when Malfoy’s magic began to sink away. She looked up in time to see his blonde hair disappear out the door. It was nice to feel his anger simmer down to just an annoying twitter in the background. The mention of his father always got him fired up. 

Herimone tried to stay focused. “So the bonds were solidified with dark runes, meaning each pair’s magical cores are now joined. It should, in theory, strengthen each person’s magic. These runes here,” she pointed to Draco’s handwriting, “are for power, unity, and cohesion.”

“So, besides our emotions sort of connecting, we could be more useful against the golden company then,” Ron suggested, looking to Hermione for confirmation. “If some sort of fight breaks out.” 

“Most likely, yes,” Hermione told him. “The problem with these binds is that they have the potential to strengthen over time,” Hermione explained. “We aren’t going to know exactly the extent of them until it happens, but we can use the experimental research to give us some ideas.” 

“What about these other runes? What do they represent?” Daphne asked, looking over the board with confusion in her eyes. “We didn’t all take Ancient Runes, remember.” 

“Well, there’s success, communication, desire, dependency,” Luna started reading off. A few people gasped and she turned around, cocking her head to the side. “What?” 

“Dependency? That can’t be good,” Ginny stated. 

Hermione tried to find a delicate way of putting it. “Dependency runes are tricky and with our compatibility magic playing into it, that aspect of the bind could be stronger or weaker depending on the individuals involved and how much they rely on or use their bind.” 

Ginny paced around the table. “So, how far does that go? Are we talking, ‘need to be around them all the time’ or a ‘can’t live without them’ sort of situation? When one person gets injured will the other feel it? That could make things problematic in a fight.” 

“The dependency rune is open at the top,” Luna pointed, “which means it is subject to change based on the runes that follow, how the bond plays out for each pair. Right now, it’s noticeable in how much time we spend apart from each other. I know we all feel it already, at least a bit, when our partner is off at work or maybe even in another room. I expect that sort of feeling could grow the longer the bond goes.” 

“It should not get to the point where we feel each other’s pain,” Hermione looked at Ginny, trying to hide the uncertainty in her voice. Ginny stared back at her with raised eyebrows, knowing what Hermione wasn’t saying out loud. 

Ginny knew about the pain Hermione felt when Draco didn’t have his ring on. Now that he started wearing it again, she had almost forgotten. But something about their connection was different from the start, not just because she was a muggleborn and he was a pureblood. Hermione had to be cautious. She couldn’t just hope it was a flaw of the rings. But she didn’t want to worry everyone else either.

She felt for his magic now, knowing he was still in the house. She wasn’t feeling any pain, but more like the bond was stretched ever so slightly. Her magic floated around to the rafters of the library, searching for wherever Draco was upstairs. A small pang of worry bubbled up in her mind about what it could mean that their connection was already doing this, but she pushed it away.

Cormac was speaking this time when she got back into the conversation. “So we’re bound for the purpose of strengthening our magic? I thought the whole thing was to increase magical bloodlines.” 

“Well, we aren’t sure if that’s a rouse or not,” Pansy was fiddling with her necklace. “The Clarity Project originated partially for creating stronger witches and wizards, mainly for Voldemort’s personal ranks. By binding two compatible people, you essentially create super soldiers. And the offspring of such individuals would then reap the benefits. He wanted magically pure babies and this is as close as they could get,” Pansy said, her voice unsettling. Cormac blanched. Ginny and Daphne were both frowning. 

“But, how does that work for us?” Cormac replied drily, eying Pansy with his eyebrows raised. 

“It’s the compatibility magic again,” Hermione cut in before Pansy could open her mouth. She looked spiteful. “It wasn’t supposed to be there so however they originally set up pairs didn’t work.” 

“So then, if there’s a fertility rune and it’s going to force us all to procreate, what’s that going to do for the same sex couples?” Ginny asked then.

“We haven’t found one for fertility yet,” Luna said and both Hermione and Ginny looked relieved. Hermione felt her own nervousness was making her stomach churn, but she tried to ignore it. 

“Yes, but I doubt we’d find it in the runes,” Daphne said, flipping a page in front of her. “My Gran used to talk of fertility spells in the old days. She suggested to my mother that my sister and I should have had them when we turned fourteen. It was vile,” Daphne’s face wrinkled in disgust, “anyway, she always talked about an object, how it’s much easier to embed fertility spells in something to be carried or worn… oftentimes it was jewelry.” 

Daphne frowned as she looked down at her ring. “Fuck,” Ginny stated, pushing away from the table again. Ron watched his sister with a frown. 

Hermione was pale. “We’re going to have to see if we can run tests on these rings, find out what else was placed on them. Or maybe we find some information in the research here. Maybe it’ll reveal why purebloods can take their rings off too.” 

“We can start analyzing the rings,” Luna said, gesturing to Pansy. She nodded and the two collected a stack of papers from Hermione and headed for a quiet part of the library still close by. Luna waved her wand for a small table and the two set to work. 

Hermione felt like there wasn’t much more to tell, although the others still looked at her with concern. But there wasn’t more to go off of yet. She grabbed up Lucius’s black journal and sat down, opening it for the first time. 

Luna continued to copy over runes and Daphne made her way over to Cormac. They stood by the fire quietly talking. Ron looked on edge at all the papers. He finally wandered over to Hermione’s side. She glanced at him and he sat down beside her. 

“Sorry about last night, Hermione,” Ron said quietly, watching Daphne by the fire. She tucked a piece of blonde hair behind her ear as she continued to talk with Cormac. Ron smiled absentmindedly. 

Hermione grabbed a spare piece of parchment and stuck it in the portion she had been reading. Then she turned and looked Ron in the eye. “I just don’t know why you had to in the first place. It’s Malfoy of all people, you knew he was going to say something to get you going. Practically anything he says makes you angry.” 

Ron rubbed his neck. “He’s quite the git like that, actually.”

“And so are you, it would seem,” Hermione said. Ron merely nodded, embarrassed. 

“What did he even say to you,” she started and when Ron’s chest inflated ready to give her a compelling monologue she cut him off. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know. Just don’t think you have to defend me to him, okay Ron? I appreciate that you want to, but I can handle myself. I can handle Malfoy.” 

Ron’s blue eyes blinked at her and he looked apologetic once again. His nose was still all purple as he touched it. “I just want you to know I’m still here for you I guess. We’re still friends after all.” 

It was a sadder statement than he meant it to be and Hermione sighed. She wanted to still be mad, but at the same time it was just too tiring. “Yes, of course we are. But you have to remember Malfoy’s a part of my life now too. Whether you like that or not.” 

Hermione’s magic gave a flutter and she looked at the door, but no one was there. She turned back to Ron, ignoring it. “Malfoy’s not the one who started all this, he’s not involved and you fighting him doesn’t help us get to the bottom of who did start it.” 

“Okay, okay,” Ron said sincerely, “You’re right, Hermione. It won’t happen again, I promise.” He gave her a small smile and Hermione returned it. 

Ron stood then and pushed in his chair. He rounded the table to Daphne, apologizing to Cormac for interrupting. Ron gestured for Daphne to walk with him and she merely nodded and silently followed. The two headed behind some shelves for some privacy. 

Hermione assumed he wanted to apologize to her too. Good. It made the idea of reprimanding him just now a little more bearable. And with that, Hermione turned back to the journal, flipping open to a page to more experiments on subject zero.


End file.
